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as-is-above-so-below · 9 months

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Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 1: It Starts In A Bar

summary: your friends take you out to a local pub when you would much rather be grading assignments. a/n: hello! big surprise, me writing for john price! I don't know how long this will be, but I definitely have a general idea of where I want this to go. I hope y'all like it!

thank you @lethalchiralium for dragging me into the clubhouse kicking and screaming LMAO << Previous | Next >>

Why did they pick this place again?

Ah, right. “It’s a hometown pub, a staple to the community,” they said. That was clear from the couple dozen men and women, ranging from middle-aged to elderly, scattered about, and a few younger folks peppered into the crowd. It wasn’t run down by any means, just…a dive. You mindlessly picked at the peanuts and pretzels in little bowls, elbows perched on the edge of the sticky table, for hours. You chatted and occasionally laughed at the stories they shared about their homeroom students and the shenanigans the other grades got up to. You’d been teaching year thirteen for a while, students taking their A-levels in history.

It was supposed to be a quiet evening, spent with a stack of papers to grade, surrounded by glowing candles scattered around your apartment accompanied by soft white string lights stretched across the ceiling. Instead, your friends somehow managed to drag you out of your cozy home to a dark dive in town. You loved them dearly (really, you did), but you had a routine. Your ideal Friday night wasn’t in a damp bar.

Your kids could be challenging at times in their late teens. They occasionally cause trouble, known for getting into fights, interrupting class, or bringing drama into the classroom. Nevertheless, you’d never had a set of students that was more than you could handle. They turned their work in on time and were always nosy about your personal life, which – much to their chagrin – was uneventful. Your love life was stale, to put it nicely. And your friends tried everything in their power to set you up on dates, every single one striking out miserably. It didn’t feel natural to meet some guy at a restaurant for a blind date.

One of them talked about themselves the entire time, barely letting you get a word in. The next ordered about three more drinks than you and a meal that cost twice as much as yours but demanded you split the cost of the date. You were all for splitting the bill but on the first date? Not a good impression.

The rest were uninteresting and immemorable.

“Seriously? You haven’t been on a date since – Oh, what was his name again?”

“Zachary,” you pointed out, taking a long sip of your drink. “You should know; you set up the date.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t realize he was such a bore one-on-one.”

“Thanks for that, by the way. Loved talking to myself for two hours.”

You all laughed at the memory, starting to finish drinks and gather belongings. “Let’s get to the next spot to find you a man!”

Bar hopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you knew better than to resist. It would all be over much faster if you just went along. Your companions were much quicker on their exit, considering the nearly-full drink that you felt like you just bought, and they were already moving on to the next dig. You threw the rest of your drink back, flinching as the big gulp of alcohol burned down your throat, and hurried to catch up with them. You took one of their outstretched hands, giggling as they just about pulled you into the circle exiting the pub–

“Excuse me, miss!” a deep voice called out. You’re not sure why, but you turned, feeling like the man was calling out to you. Your assumption turned out to be correct, and a tall, dark-haired man with a beard and a soft smile approached you. “Sorry, you left this.”

He held your cardigan to you. You must have abandoned it in your haste.

“Oh! Thank you so much. That’s kind of you,” you said, taking the garment back and draping it over your forearm. “I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached,” you added, tapping your temple with a soft chuckle.

“Quite alright.” Behind you, an elbow nudged your spine; you barely caught yourself from making a face and snapping at whichever acquaintance decided to egg you on. “I’d offer to buy you a drink, but it seems you’re heading out.”

He certainly was handsome. His beard was well-groomed, just like his hair. It looked like he went to a barber fairly recently. He even dressed well, in a cream, ribbed polo tucked loosely into his jeans. Dark chest hair peeked out where the top two buttons were undone. It was an enticing offer…

“Um, yeah, but….” You looked over your shoulder and met expectant glances. Some looked like they were about to bust apart at the seams with glee, which made you roll your eyes. Clearly, you wouldn’t be missed. “I could hang for a little while longer.”

The man's smile grew, and his stance shifted to open a path toward the bar. “Are you sure? Y’don’t have to,” he amended, his hands in his pockets. His energy was warm and soft but still masculine. He held a confidence that not many people carried, at least not the men you’d been on dates with recently. And the Liverpool accent? Maybe things were starting to look up.

“No, no, I honestly need another drink.” You flashed your teeth back to him, folding your arms over your chest with your sweater in hand.

“In that case, after you.”

Before taking his arm, you realized you’d yet to even ask for his name. “Thank you…?”

“John.” John’s right hand hovered before you and he flashed his bright teeth. His hands were clean, nails neatly trimmed. Although, one nail bed was bruised.

Man, he’s pretty for a grown man.

“Y/N,” you replied with an easy grin. He kept a steady hold on your gaze, carefully examining the bright twinkle they held. You didn’t know it, but John had just returned from a long mission. One that had left him yearning for a shower, a haircut, and somebody to come home to. He’d never had anything to look forward to and stay alive for; no affection or comfort after a rough assignment, no one to care for and spoil.

And he wanted that.

“A surname to that, John?” you asked, sliding your hand through the loop he created with his elbow. Holy shit, he was strong. Your hand rested on the soft but well-built muscle of his bicep. You figured he must have a labor-intensive job, or he goes to the gym frequently. John didn’t seem like the type to spend hours at the gym in his spare time, so you went with the first option. You’d keep that in mind when making small talk later.

“John Price.”

“Very regal name.”

John scoffed but laughed nonetheless. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

John couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were unbelievably bubbly, especially for interacting with a stranger who only gave back your forgotten cardigan. He’d been watching you from his spot at the bar, laughing with your friends but zoning out every once in a while. He was no stranger to giving himself a mental break, particularly in a hectic environment like a packed bar on a cool, Friday evening.

“I’ll call you when I need a ride!”

You and John watched the giggly group exit the pub, happily waving as they piled into a cab. You waved back with your free hand, your other palm still pressed against his warm skin. They didn’t embarrass you too badly, thank god. You met John’s eyes, a dark color twinkling with mischief.

“Your friends seem chipper.”

“I’m so sorry. They’re just happy to see me talking to a man.”

“Oh? Is that right?” he chuckled, nodding to your previously held table. John broke away briefly to retrieve his unfinished drink and denim jacket from the bar.

You followed his lead back to the booth, attempting to keep control of the flush you felt beginning to heat your cheeks. “They’ve set me up on many an unfortunate date. Not saying I don’t get along fine on my own, but–”

“It’s rough out there?” he finished, sliding into the cushioned seat across from you. When you nodded in return, John smirked. “Believe me. I get it. My career makes it difficult to find time for much of anything.”

“Yeah, well, I have sixteen kids.”

The man sputtered, choking on what looked to be an old-fashioned. Possibly a bad joke, but it was such a great opportunity; you were feeling frisky, and you couldn’t help the giggles that erupted following his reaction. “I teach history for year thirteen.”

“Oh, thank Christ.” John wiped the cocktail off his lip with the back of his hand, shaking his head at your laughter. “You had me going there. Five minutes into our date, and I’ve made a mess of myself.”

You quirked a brow. “So this is a date?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well, I would consider it light conversation. Getting to know each other.”

“That’s a date.”

“Mmm, I’d say it’s more casual than that.”

“I’m not looking for casual, love.”

You paused, examining his calm demeanor. He didn’t seem cocky, but honest, a welcome change to the pattern you’d observed over the last few months. None of your dates had been so bold as to know what they want and make their intentions clear. Especially not so quickly. It was refreshing.

“Me neither.”

“Good.”

You both sat in peace, pausing your conversation for the waitress. You ordered another drink, as promised, and folded your hands on the tabletop, fingers laced. “So, what do you do, John?” you asked, tapping your thumbs together.

“I’m in the military.”

You paused, expectantly waiting for him to continue, only to be met with silence.

“Care to elaborate?”

He tutted once with his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

Interesting. Normally, resistance like that would be a red flag. On the other hand, his job could be “classified” or whatever is said in the movies. No alarms went off in your mind; your intuition told you that John was trustworthy, so you let it go. The pretty brunette dropped your new drink off and another for John.

“I can tell you that I’m a Captain.”

“So you have pretend kids too?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he hummed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. A slight tinge of the citrus notes from the expressed orange peel wafted across the table. John’s laugh was distinctive, chesty and rumbly, inviting. “Of course. Mine are bigger, though, I’m sure.”

“Oh? They’re not scrawny little soldiers?”

“No. One’s almost two meters tall.”

“Jesus. How many?”

“Five. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alex, and Farah.”

“Well, I for one can’t wait to meet them.”

“Likewise.”

You fussed with your hair for about the thousandth time in your bathroom mirror and huffed when it wouldn’t settle right. John was to meet you in about fifteen minutes. Knowing him, that meant he would be buzzing up to your apartment any second. You’d been on a few dates and knew his date habits pretty well. If you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late. You had been out to dinner, grabbed coffee once or twice; you even grabbed an ice cream. So, it was a surprise when John suggested a trip to the museum. It didn’t seem like his thing, but you weren’t about to turn down a trip to the history exhibit.

As you expected, a familiar BZZT BZZT reverberated through your flat, signaling his arrival. The first time he picked you up, you let him into the building without using the intercom. You tried explaining that the speaker broke and your landlord had yet to fix it (shocker), but John wouldn’t hear it. You could have been letting in a random creep pressing buttons until some tenant unlocked the door. He insisted on creating a little system, so you would know it was him downstairs and not a kidnapper. From then on, he always rang the bell twice.

You gave up on your hair, switched the light off, and paged him in. Your unit was on the first floor (which wasn’t ideal), so it only took John a few seconds to reach your door. When you heard a knock at your door, you peered through the peephole (as promised) before unlocking the deadbolt, revealing a very well-dressed captain. John’s hair was a bit shaggy, but it suited him well. Your heart fluttered helplessly at the bright smile that appeared when he laid eyes on you, his gaze obviously taking in the sight before him.

It was a weeknight, and you didn’t have time to change between school and your usual errands. You threw a plaid skirt, thigh-high socks, and loose sweater together; just a sliver of skin showed between the top of your socks and hem of your skirt. You felt underdressed compared to John, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.

“Hi,” he said, leaning to kiss your cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Same to you. You always clean up well.”

“If you saw the state I’m usually in at work – you’d understand why.”

John kept a watchful eye to make sure you turned both locks for your door before guiding you outside to a waiting taxi with a hand on the small of your back. He held the door to your building and the car open for you. The drive was short, but the weather was starting to catch a bit of a chill, and you didn’t want to walk too far.

Ever the gentleman, the captain followed closely behind you up the steps to the gallery. Even if he weren’t perceptive, with years of experience reading people, he could tell you were excited to be there; however, he wasn’t so experienced in the ‘romance’ department. John honestly couldn’t even remember the last time he visited any museum, let alone a dedicated history exhibition. But when he suggested it and assured you that he would have a good time, he was only being partially truthful. Secretly, the man just wanted an excuse to listen to you talk. What better place to bring you than an exhibit where he knew you would talk his ear off for hours?

You slowly worked your way through each exhibit, explaining some pieces you recognized and their significance to the period; at displays you weren’t familiar with, you both quietly hovered closer to the title cards, reading through the description. While that kind of date wasn’t John’s usual cup of tea, he was glad he planned it; it helped him figure out how to slow the fuck down and try to be normal outside of a military setting or a pub.

His breath nearly stuttered every time you laid a gentle hand on his arm and drew his attention to the next section, beaming as you animately but quietly pointed out the tiny details in a Renaissance painting hung on the wall. The man couldn’t help but stare at how your lips curved at every syllable, wide eyes glued on the intricate scene portrayed. John hadn’t spoken much so far aside from the occasional affirmation that he was listening; he was very much in his head, unsure if you were excited to be there with him or just excited to be there. But, standing in front of the big painting, you went quiet. You met his gaze, and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin, which you returned before you both shifted back to the artwork. It was peaceful, absorbing the atmosphere and just existing together. Suddenly, John was jolted out of his reverie by the feeling of something brushing the side of his palm.

You were itching to hold his hand all night but were too nervous to take that leap. What if he rejected you? That wasn’t likely after so many dates, but still. Your nerves got the better of you for the better half of the self-guided tour. Regardless, you had managed to work up the courage, cautiously grazing your pinky against his wrist and hand before wrapping it around his. You didn’t look away from the illustration, but he did, moving to you, then down to your hands.

He simply stared for a moment, surprised but positively giddy at the same time. Surely enough, John took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and leaning just a bit closer to you. He could stand there forever, basking in your warmth and energy, the sound of your voice sinking into his every thought–

“Oh no,” you said, breaking the silence. You looked up at him worried, wrinkles forming between your brows. “I-I’m sorry. I was teaching again.”

He immediately gave you a reassuring squeeze, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk.” Jesus, did he have a way with words. He liked hearing you talk? With that accent, he could spew nonsense, and it would still draw you in. But hearing John Price give you compliments and praise? Flattery? You were a goner. “Tell me more about the next one?”

As if he could get any more fucking perfect.

“Okay.”

#captain john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x teacher!reader #call of duty #captain john price #cardigan as is above so below #as is above so below #cod mw #mw fics #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #teacher!reader #john price x afab!reader

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sidekick-hero · 2 months

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(steddie | teen | wc: 790 | tags: established relationship, former jock Steve, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, in fact he's so in love he would do anything for love | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy (@forgottenkanji) | AO3)

At first glance, Steve and Eddie weren't meant to be.

At first glance, they were two opposites, one the antithesis of the other. While Steve was the sun, Eddie was the moon. Day and night, summer and winter, light and dark.

But despite all the differences between them, they still worked. They complemented each other, creating a precious balance that made them both better. It's as if they only made sense with each other by their side.

There was only one difference between them that tested their love for each other: Steve's love of the outdoors and Eddie's utter hatred of it.

Steve, a former jock with a physique to match, found solace in the rugged beauty of nature. He relished the adrenaline of a challenging hike, the satisfying burn of muscles pushed to their limits, and the sweet exhaustion that followed a day spent under the open sky. Eddie loved that Steve's body was a true testament to his enduring love of the outdoors: the sun-kissed skin with constellations of beauty marks and freckles an invitation for adventurous hands and lips, his thick thighs and impressive stamina God's apology for Eddie's hardships.

Eddie, on the other hand, had always lived a different kind of life. A theater kid at heart, he thrived in the world of imagination and creativity. Dungeons and Dragons was his favorite realm, where he spun tales of fantasy and daring escapades. Physical activity, however, was a realm he hadn't quite embraced.

Early Sunday mornings were his sworn enemy, and the thought of a hike sent shivers down his spine. And yet, it was exactly what he had apparently agreed to do.

The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room that Steve and Eddie shared. Steve, already dressed in his hiking gear, couldn't contain his enthusiasm for the adventure that awaited them. He leaned over and gently nudged Eddie, who was wrapped in the warmth of the blanket.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Steve whispered, a grin playing on his lips. "Time to rise and shine. We've got a beautiful hike waiting for us."

Eddie groaned, a muffled protest escaping from beneath the covers. "Can't it wait? It's Sunday morning, Steve. I need my beauty sleep."

Steve chuckled, his fingers lightly tracing circles on Eddie's back. "Come on, love. The early bird catches the worm, or in our case, catches the breathtaking sunrise over the hills. Trust me, it's worth it."

Eddie peeked out from the covers, one eye squinting against the morning light. "Can't we catch the sunrise from the comfort of our bed?"

Steve's laughter filled the room. "As tempting as that sounds, there's something magical about witnessing it from the top of the trail. Plus, fresh air and the sounds of nature – it's the perfect way to start our day together."

Eddie sighed dramatically, dragging himself into a sitting position. "You and your love affair with fresh air. I swear, it's a conspiracy against my cozy Sunday mornings."

Steve leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Eddie's forehead. "I promise it'll be worth it. And hey, I'll even let you pick the playlist for our drive to the trailhead."

Eddie's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Anything I want?"

Steve nodded, a playful glint in his eye. "Anything. As long as it gets us up and moving."

With a theatrical sigh, Eddie finally relented. "Fine, fine. But you owe me breakfast at that little café we passed last time. And I get to pick what we do for the rest of the day. Deal?"

"Deal," Steve agreed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Now get dressed and let's make this Sunday morning one for the books."

As Eddie reluctantly began to accept the idea of leaving the warmth of their bed, he let the warmth of Steve's smile envelop him instead. It wasn't that he suddenly liked Sunday mornings or breaking a sweat for anything other than what he had planned to do with Steve once they were back here in their bedroom. He knew he would hate the burning in his legs and lungs every step of the way, but all that seemed like a small price to pay for Steve's joy and happiness. What was an early morning and the discomfort of working his untrained body for a few miles if it meant sharing moments with the person who made even the earliest of Sunday hikes something Eddie would look back on fondly.

So when they finally reached the top of the hill, Steve turning to him with sparkling eyes and asking, "Didn't I tell you? It was all worth it," Eddie couldn't help but kiss him, long and deep and sweet.

Everything was worth it for Steve.

#steddie #steddie fluff #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 29 #Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy #my writing

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mystic-scorpio · 10 months

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WHY PEOPLE FIND YOU ATTRACTIVE ?

[BASED ON YOUR VENUS PLACEMENT]

[if you don't know your venus placement, link to a astrological placement calculater is included in the post]

[copyrights reserved ©️mystic-scorpio]

________________________________

KNOW YOUR VENUS SIGN

Enter your birth details in the link given below to obtain your Venus sign:-

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᯽VENUS in ARIES

Confidence is sexy. You're confident. YOU ARE SEXY!

It's your bold demeanor, the way you flirt in a slowburn way or the way you play hard to get making your romantic interest feel like they are in a teen rom-com.

You are attracted to:

People who are good looking as well as intelligent. Someone who doesn't have brains is a big turn off for you.

᯽VENUS in TAURUS

You walk in the room and you make heads turn. This is because your vibe is more than grounded and calm, you also radiate this magnetic, sensual aura.

People can feel this aura, and mixed with your loyal, dependable nature, IT IS SUCH A TURN ON!

You are attracted to:

People with a sweet/ calm/ pleasant voice

᯽VENUS in GEMINI

There's something about the way you speak, it is enriched with your wit and intelligence. I guess we could say you have a way to talk your way into people's hearts.

Your fun loving and carefree nature keeps your admirers on a constant high level of adrenaline and take my word for it, it's reallyyyy attractive.

You are attracted to:

People who are clever or smart witted. You yearn for someone who can keep you guessing.

᯽VENUS in CANCER

It's that caring, nurturing look in your eyes. The way you look at people you care about with so much love, it really makes them feel special, and they can end up getting infatuated with you.

You are attracted to:

People with a gentle nature and pleasant presence.

᯽VENUS in LEO

You are charismatic, charming and so elegant. You are basically a Wattpad lead, full of confidence and generosity. People who like you find you attractive not only because you are probably the most charming person they've met but also because you're kind, generous and genuine.

You are attracted to:

People who are sophisticated and classy.

᯽VENUS in VIRGO

No-one is sexier than a person who takes care of themselves, because it indicates that they can take care of others as well.

You make sure to always seem presentable. You take care of your body and mind which gives you an attractive glow. Your charm lies in your reliability and logic.

.........SO CHARMING!!!

You are attracted to:

Someone who has a good nature and can speak politely.

᯽VENUS in LIBRA

You are the kind of person people can't resist. Your flirting skills are top notch yet you're a gentle lover. You care for people and adapt yourselves to their needs and requirements.

HOW CAN YOU BE SO PERFECT?!?!?!?!

You are attracted to:

People with a good fashion-sense. Someone who is not pretentious, smart and has a fair sense of judgement.

᯽VENUS in SCORPIO

This one's a no brainer.

Scorpio is the sexiest sign of the lot, and when it's your venus placement, you become magnetic, sensual and attractive in unexplainable ways.

You are attracted to:

People who can handle emotional intensity. Someone who is powerful and dynamic is usually your type.

᯽VENUS in SAGITTARIUS

You are extroverted, funny and full of ideas. TELL ME WHY SOMEONE WILL NOT JUST FALL IN LOVE?!

Open minded and adventurous, you make the perfect person to spend time with.

You are attracted to:

Someone who can challenge your opinions and ideas with theirs.

᯽VENUS in CAPRICORN

You are a thinker, you like to ponder over the questions of life. Intelligent , wise and a beholder of beauty, people who are attracted to you love discussing about things that we usually don't talk about much in everyday life. They admire your knowledge and perspective.

It's the shine in your eyes when you discuss the topics you like to ponder, that makes people fall head over heels for you.

You are attracted to:

People who are wise. (like no shit)

᯽VENUS in AQUARIUS

You are YOU in every sense.

What I mean is that your personality and behaviour don't get swayed or influenced when you're around different people.

Your REAL and NON-PRETENTIOUS nature's is so attractive!

You're at you best when surrounded by like minded people and your lively nature is CRUSH-WORTHY!!

You are attracted to:

Intelligent people who can communicate well.

᯽VENUS in PISCES

You have a gentle, caring and compassionate nature.

You give emotional support to people who need it and you always want to make people feel better.

What's more attractive than a good heart?

You are attracted to:

Emotionally messed up people.

You feel needed around people who require emotional support, however this relationship can grow toxic as you have a tendency to ignore red flags.

(I suggest asking a trusted friend about the person you're dating, and trying to see from their perspective, no matter how much you love your boo.

Stay safe out there <3)

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A/N : Yeahh that's it! See you in the next blog! Till then stay safe, stay happy<3

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training4theapocalypse · 3 months

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a fine wee lass, a bonnie wee lass ch.1

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 2k

Warnings / Tags: Smut, infidelity, size difference, references to previous underage romance (when they were both teens).

Summary: You're the bridesmaid at your brother’s wedding and his best man, John MacTavish is back in town. You just hope he doesn't remember when you last saw him, when you tried with all your might to stop him from joining the army.

A/N: I've not played COD since like 2012 but I keep seeing clips of Soap on TikTok and my wee Scottish heart just fancies the pants off him. This is inspired by a Scottish folk song called 'Bonnie Wee Jeannie McCall'. The dialogue is written in Scots - I hope you can follow along.

ALSO I just found out about @glitterypirateduck’s challenge by a happy accident the day after I wrote this and this fits nicely into:

Prompt 28: They don't need to know

Masterlist (there’s no other COD stuff here sorry)

Chapter 1: The first night I met her she was awfy, awfy shy

You pull your shawl around you as you stand outside the old castle. Rain lashes down across the sprawling Falkirk countryside while revellers laugh from the wedding inside. The music hasn’t started yet - you think that you’re safe to have a breather before you need to go inside for the first dance.

You stand as close to the wall as you can, taking cover from the rain. Your pink satin shoes are getting soaked. Not that it matters. The shoes your brother’s new wife chose for her bridesmaids are so ugly it’s unlikely you’d have worn them again anyway. But she’ll be fuming when she sees the state of them.

The door to the castle opens behind you and you move over, dodging a puddle to let the newcomer seek the shelter of the castle wall too.

“Awryt, darlin?” asks a voice and you look up from the puddle at your feet to see John MacTavish, your brother’s best man, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “I didnae think you smoked.”

“I don’t,” you say, putting your vape to your lips and raising your eyebrows once.

He pulls a sour face. “Them? They’re fulla chemicals and like, mercury, and that.”

“Oh aye? What’s in these? Vitamins?” you ask, flicking the pack of cigarettes in his hand with a forefinger. “You didnae smoke afore joinin’ the army.”

“Aye, well, I was sixteen when you last saw me. And you were, whit, twelve?”

“Fifteen, John.”

There’s only a year between you and your big brother, Tam. But the way he and John treated you, you’d have thought there was a decade between you. Acting like you were an annoying wee tag-along. You just wanted to be included from time to time.

But that was ten years ago. Last time you saw John, he was just a boy, and you, just a lass. But now he’s older, with a scar on his chin that’s only highlighted by his coarse, dark stubble. The scar cuts across the hair there like white lightning. He’s taller, and broader than when you last saw him and his hair is shaved much shorter and neater than the teenage John you remember.

“Aw, aye. I mind now. You and your pals had wangled your way intae the sixth-year leavers’ gaff. As usual.”

“Did I? Any excuse for a drink back then, I s’pose.”

“Aye, but I remember ‘cause I wis leavin’ in a few days for the army. And you were -” He cuts himself off suddenly.

“I was whit?” a smile cracks across your face, waiting to hear his description of how you looked that night. Beautiful? Stunning? Mesmerising? You see yourself as you had been - your hair perfectly straightened, your Oh Polly bandage dress hugging your form in all the right places. In your memory, you were the embodiment of a siren. You had dolled up that night to impress the older boys. Or, if you were honest, one particular older boy.

“Well, I mean,” he says putting a cigarette between his lips and flicking his lighter. The orange glow briefly illuminates his face, casting shadows that seem to momentarily harden his features, making you remember he’s no longer a boy of sixteen but a man of twenty-six. “You were absolutely gantin’ for it.”

Your mouth falls open and you hit his arm.

Mortifying.

“Whit? Fae you? Aye, right !” you say, sarcastically but your face flushes bright red, immediately giving you away. You might have been drunk but John MacTavish rejecting your drunken advances as a teenager was probably the defining moment of your formative years.

As your words, brushing off his teasing, hang in the air, the jolt of embarrassment reminds you of a different party.

On that fateful night, ten years ago, the music was much louder. The floor was littered with empty cans and bottles and you’d ‘accidentally on purpose’ bumped into John in the hallway before pulling him into someone’s parents’ bedroom. You’d recklessly thrown your arms around him.

“Woah, woah, woah. What you daen?” he’d whispered in a panic.

“Please, Johnny,” you’d slurred drunkenly. “I dunno when I’ll see you again. Somethin’ tae remember me by.”

You had leaned in to kiss him but he turned his head. You were so drunk you didn’t care. You sucked on his neck, feeling that dark stubble under your sloppy tongue as your hand found his cock in his jeans.

But he’d stopped you in your tracks. Pinned your arms to the side. He was stronger than you, even as a teenager.

“Naw, look, I cannae,” he had said. And even though your eyes could barely focus on his, you could tell he was annoyed at you. But you didn’t care. You just wanted him so badly.

“Aw, come on, John. Please? I’ll show you my tits,” you had said. “I’ll - I’ll go the full way. I’ll do anythin’. Just - just don’t leave, awryt?”

The sound of cheers from the reception hall cuts through your memory and snaps you back to your current, rainy surroundings.

“Aye, well, I was probably just dreamin’,” says present-day John. “It probably never happened.”

It’s considerate of him, to pretend that it never happened.

But no matter how hard you try to pretend, there’s no denying that you made a fool of yourself, plain and simple.

Sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, the memory makes you cringe as you replay that embarrassing moment. You try and cut yourself some slack, remind yourself that you were just a desperate, heartbroken teenager who’d drunk half a bottle of vodka working up the courage to make the move she’d always thought about. Begging John not to join the army. Begging John to fuck her.

He had declined both requests.

But that doesn’t matter because you’re a fully grown woman now. One that hasn’t spent more than a second thinking about John MacTavish coming home for her brother’s wedding. No, sir. Not one second. Definitely not.

You exhale a laugh like it’s a funny memory. “Maybe it did happen. I cannae really remember, I must have been steamin’ drunk,” you say. But you know what happened. He knows what happened. And he knows you know.

John's response comes with a delay, his chuckle soft and tinged with a hint of meaningful self-deprecation, to try and frame some of the embarrassment back onto himself. “You must’ve been steamin' to have tried it on wae the likes of me. You were always far too good for me,” he laughs, but this time his smile doesn’t quite reach those bright blue eyes.

There’s a long silence as you say nothing. With a deliberate motion, you bring the vape to your lips, inhaling deeply, the action grounding you back to the here and now as the artificial kiwi-passionfruit-guava fills your lungs with something that you know must be bad for them. As you exhale, your gaze drifts down to your soaked shoes, the pink satin darkened by the rain. They’ve changed beyond recognition.

“Woah,” he coughs his own puff of smoke. “Now just whit is that ?” asks John, his eyes clocking your left hand.

You tilt your hand subtly, letting the diamond catch the cloudy daylight. “Did Tam no mention it?” The words linger between you, almost casual. “I’m engaged, John.”

For a moment, John just stares at your hand, his face unreadable. Then, a low whistle escapes him, a mix of surprise and something unspoken. He glances up at you, his eyes searching yours for the answer to a question that he doesn’t voice. “Engaged, eh? Tam never said a word.” His gaze shifts away, a frown creasing his forehead. “Where’s the lucky man the night?”

“He’s offshore the now - he works on the rigs.”

“Christ, I’ll say,” says John, taking your hand and examining your ring. “He’d need tae be workin’ in oil for a big rock like this wan.”

Your hand feels small in his. His thick brows soften from a frown when he pulls his gaze up from your engagement ring to meet your eyes. His eyes are blue and full of a warmth that you wouldn’t expect from someone who, from Tam’s account, is a hardened soldier.

Your heart thuds in your chest when you realise that he’s been holding your hand for too long. But you don’t retract it.

“Aww the best tae the happy couple, then,” he says softly. “I suppose Tam never telt me ‘cause he had a lot to be dealing wae his own wedding and that.” John lets go of your hand. “Dae you no miss your fella, wae him being offshore?”

“Four weeks on, two weeks off. I see him plenty… More than your missus sees you, I expect. How often d’you come home? Once or twice a year?”

“I’ve no got a missus so I don’t need tae worry about that.”

The raucous laughter from inside the wedding venue dies down suddenly. And you hear the master of ceremonies announcing the entrance of the bride and groom.

“Gads,” says John, stubbing out his half-finished cigarette.

“If we miss the first dance, we’re fucked,” you say. “I’ll never hear the fuckin’ end of it.”

You try to carefully step over the puddle - John takes your arm and holds on to you so you don’t fall. He opens the oak door for you but as you’re about to pass, he grips you tighter, stopping your movement.

“Listen, darlin’, there are some things that are just off-limits,” he says, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in your ear as he leans close. He smells like cigarettes - normally that smell would turn your stomach but there’s something sweet in his aftershave, like vanilla, that makes the tobacco smell musky and warm.

“Meanin’?” You look up at him, confused.

“The last time I saw you,” he murmurs. “You were mad wae it. I couldnae, in good conscience, take you up on that offer when you were that drunk. And you’re my best pal’s wee sister tae boot. I couldnae dae that tae Tam.”

“John, that was - that was a long time ago. It was nothin’.”

“And now,” he continues. “Now you’re engaged. Which means you’re even more off-limits.”

Off-limits?

He’s talking like you’re in that bedroom again, begging for his attention. Except you’re not. You’re not begging for John again. He’s just assuming that you’re about to.

That presumptuous bastard.

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, John MacTavish. Who are you tae try and let me down gently? It’s been ten years and I’m no even slightly interested in you anymore.”

“Naw, I know,” he says, refusing to match your volume or tone of indignation. “I’m just tellin’ you out loud why I won’t be trying it on with the most beautiful lassie in the room. And why I said no back then, as well.”

“Haul! You two!” You and John spring apart to see your tiny, furious wee auntie storming down the hallway. “You’re missing your brother’s first dance with his new wife and you’re both supposed to be on the dancefloor.”

“We - we are?” you stammer.

“Aye, did you no hear the emcee telling the wedding party to join the bride and groom? That means bridesmaids and groomsmen, ya pair of glaikit idiots. Your maw’s fuckin’ ragin’”

And with that, John lets the door behind you swing shut and you both leg it past your auntie to the reception room, with you leaving wet footprints in your wake as you go. The music from the room swells into clarity as you burst through the doors and skid inelegantly onto the dancefloor.

Your brother and his wife are too absorbed in their own happiness to have noticed your late entry and you breathe a sigh of relief. But it’s short-lived. You immediately stiffen again when John takes your waist and you realise that he’s your dance partner.

As the two of you begin swaying to the music, your mind races. You’re no longer that sad, rejected teenager, yet here, in John's reassuring grasp, you feel the ghost of her stirring. His gaze is careful, and guarded, but there's still that question in his eyes that he’s forbidden to ask.

And behind your own eyes, you can’t help the stream of curses going off inside your head.

You curse your nerves for being the reason you got so drunk at that party.

You curse John for being Tam’s best man.

But most of all, you curse yourself as you watch your left hand rest on John’s shoulder as you dance, the giant diamond ring glittering like a heavy disco ball.

#scotland forever #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #task force 141 #smut #soap cod #soap mw2 #john mactavish x reader #burns night #cod fic #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #soapitup

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thosehallowedhalls · 16 days

Text

A Stagger in the Woods

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 572

Summary: Mal had a little too much to drink. It's up to Daenarya to help him make his way through the woods.

A/N: For @storyofmychoices. You didn't think we were done, did you? If you're going to devote your time to put this event together, you should get a second gift. It's only fair, my friend. @choicesfandomappreciation

Shoutout to @dutifullynuttywitch, who helped me pinpoint what was wrong with this story, and even gave me one of the lines outright. You're amazing.

The moon hangs low in the sky, its red-white glow granting the night an ethereal feel. In the woods beneath, two figures lean on each other, hands clutching and grasping, their faces close enough to kiss.

It would be more romantic if they were leaning on one another out of desire instead of necessity.

“An earthquake!” Mal exclaims, his head swinging wildly. “Quick, kit, take cover!”

Daenarya barely manages to catch him before he sends them both tumbling to the ground. She doesn’t even attempt to contain the bubble of laughter tickling her throat. “It’s not an earthquake, Mal. It’s the result of one too many glasses of ale.”

“Why Kit, I never!” Indignant, he jabs a finger and nearly takes her eye out. “I am insulted. Offended. No, appalled at your insinuation.” She captures his finger, giving it a playful nip and a quick kiss, all the while giggling at her foolish rogue.

“Not so much an insinuation as an expression of fact, Your Magnificence. I did tell you to pace yourself.”

“But it was a ce-celebration!” He hiccups. “We made it out of the Deadwood! We had to commemorate the occasion!”

She pats his shoulder a little too hard. “That doesn’t mean you and Imtura had to challenge each other to see who could, er, commemorate more.”

He laughs uproariously, then comes to an abrupt stop before turning in a circle. Daenarya stumbles. “Where is Imtura?”

“Probably giving Tyril as much trouble as you’re giving me.”

“But we never reached a consainsos… conshensus… con-sen-sus,” he corrects, slurring over each syllable. “Who won? Who lost? Call her back!”

He extricates himself from her grasp and stomps forward. “Imtura! Imty! Imtura!”

She rushes over and wraps an arm around his waist. “It was a tie.”

“Well, that won’t do. The loser was supposed to buy the winner the first drink once we took down the Shadow Court!”

“You can buy each other a drink,” she suggests.

“That’s no fun at all,” he protests before brightening right up again. “Oh! We could try again tomorrow.”

Daenarya lets her head fall against his shoulder. “Please, for the love of all the Old and New Gods, don’t.”

His expression falters, and his eyes take on the sheen of a wounded doe. “Am I… Am I annoying you, kit?”

“Half of me,” she admits cheerfully. “The other half is giggling madly.”

“Oh, that’s okay then.” Mal smiles his drunken grin again. “I love it when you giggle. And laugh. And snort.”

“You love it when I snort?”

“Because you’re happy, see.” He waves his hands in the air. “’Tis like this: you don’t laugh enough. And you think I can’t tell when you cry yourself to sleep.”

“Mal…”

“But now you’re gigglin’. Or half of you is.”

Moved, she presses a tender kiss to his cheek. “You make me smile as much as I possibly can under these circumstances. Once we find Kade? It’s going to be all smiles from there.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to be stung by a Drakna.”

He tries to kiss her and misses by about five inches. “Hey, where did your lips go?”

“They’re still in the same place.”

“But I couldn’t find them!”

“I’ll help you find them tomorrow. As long as you no longer reek of ale.”

He gives a put-upon sigh. “Guess I’ll have to skip challenging Imtura again, then. All for a good cause.”

"She captures his finger, giving it a playful nip and a quick kiss, all the while giggling at her foolish rogue" came straight from @dutifullynuttywitch's fabulously talented mind.

#mal x daenarya #mal x mc #blades of light and shadow #ChoicesAprilActsOfKindness #30 drabbles in 30 days

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ebbyillustrations · 1 month

Text

Slight update to my Sally Acorn design.

This sure grew out of control! Following what I know of Sega and their character requirements is an interesting art challenge, gotta say. Stat details for readability:

Stats:

"Age": Mid-teens (15)

Species: Red squirrel (American)

Skills: Gymnastics, coding, forest gardening, hardwiring, planning

Driving force: Protect her people/team, finding her dad

Likes: Her people, flowers, ballads, chess, technology

Dislikes: Eggman, Naugus, over-formalities, [being underestimated especially when it comes to her skills]

Image songs: Stardust Speedway (Good Future), Chill Palace Zone by NutBonkers

Design Inspo: Gymnasts (Gabby Douglas, Simone Biles), Major Kusanagi (Ghost in the Shell), her SatAm pilot design

Ranks I just made up: Speed: B [she's as fast as every other character who's not Sonic or Shadow] Power: C [she can lift one person, slowly push a large rock...] Skill: S [she's a fast learner, especially when it comes to tech and a brilliant strategist who's gotten better at thinking on the fly] Flight: N/A

Game play:

uses "Midden system", originally created [by Rotor, NICOLE, and herself] for salvaging and storage.

when the Midden system is activated, the arrows on her outfit glow cyan

names attacks after chess moves/tech terms

"Caches" items to use later on

asks NICOLE to "scan" items

can cling to many surfaces (she’s a squirrel lol)

Homing attack (“Castling”): jumps to take over robot enemies, only temporary, robot explodes after use.

Counter/parry (“Counter gambit”): she forms an orb of coding to throw at enemy projectiles (think Kirby’s star bullet), can be done while running, a high risk/high reward for stronger enemies.

Spin attack (“Shadow tail spin”): not a 1 shot, take 3 hits to be effective

Sync: calls on friends via NICOLE for specific jobs, only 3 friends can be picked before levels.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic satam #sally acorn #freedom fighters #archie sonic #tho i was avoiding a lot of archie stuff due to the challenge #character designs #digital art #procreate

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 month

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I was wondering what some of your OCs were like as children. Like who were the rebellious ones? The quiet ones? The mature ones? The ones who haven’t really changed vs the 180-degree switch? Etc.

And as a bit of a more in depth add-on, what made them change (or not) into the monster they are when they met reader?

Also I feel like they’d all be adorable as children. With some of them not having grown fangs, horns, tusks, etc. then *boom puberty* and they’re large intimidating monsters! It’d just be so funny having monster children with them cause you’d get to watch their unique growth cycles and any habits that come with it.

So cuuuuute ^_^ I love the idea of pre-teen monsters getting into hijinks

I picked some monsters below:

Vass was quiet, but a little rebellious. When he was a child, his mother and father, the King and Queen were at odds. As mentioned in one of the chapters, his father was a pretty awful dad. His mother was demanding, hoping to shape him into a future despot. She already had his future partner picked out and demanded they spend time together. Vass never wanted any of that and spent lots of time hiding and knitting to pass the time.

Arion was also very studious, but in a more happy go lucky way. His parents coddled him and listened closely when he babbled about his newest discoveries. He liked to be carried as a baby and usually curled up in him mom's coils while she went about her business and read books. Sadly, schoolchildren were not so loving or accepting. He had few friends and got picked on a lot. That's part of the reason he developed into a Yandere. He knew he was lovable, but he had a hard time making friends, so when he meets the love of his life, he'll do anything to keep her

Serge was spoiled rotten. He always got whatever he wanted when he wanted it. He was a little awkward in his teens, skinny and clumsy, but had a major glow-up in his twenties. He grew up with the belief that anything he wanted belonged to him and anyone who stood in his way was wrong. He was an absolute terror to his parents, exploding in melodramatic theatrics if they ever told him no. Even as a little baby he cried a lot and wanted to be carried.

Levi was meek. If you saw him as a young child, he would normally be dressed in a dark suit with a troubled look on his face as if he were at a funeral. His mother and father never got along. Though he preferred his father, he was a hardened vampire lord and didn't give him much affection. Levi learned to gain his love through good behavior. He was very studious and obedient. In return, his father helped him build his self-esteem and cruelty so that he could properly lead the family. He very much relied on his father until he was killed by his mother. That changed Levi deeply, as he had to become the leader overnight. In another life, Levi would have been happy to follow his father around as his protege for centuries but was forced to take on responsibilities before he was ready

Cedar was a sweet kid, but growing up was hard for him. He always outclassed his peers athletically but didn't like fighting. He never wanted to hurt anyone and preferred to read. He had a kind soul and struggled when he was conscripted into the army as a young Orc. Things changed when he saw his fellow cadets being abused by a general. He challenged him and won. Since then, he realized that sometimes might is necessary, though he still prefers reading and strategizing to battling.

Lethia has always been a good, bad girl with a mind for business. She opened her first enterprise when she was just a demonlette stealing her family and friend's talismans, shuffling them, and then selling them back to them giving each person someone else's. She was eventually caught, but her parents were impressed with her initiative and encouraged her to study business. She was a little gangly around puberty, but she was scrappy with a hot temper so she became every girl in her class's she-demon in shining armor.

Severin was always popular. He grew up handsome, and strong and was a natural-born leader. In some ways, he was too good, always following the rules, and could be a little high and mighty. It hurt him that some of his peers didn't like him because he was too perfect, but everyone knew he was destined for greatness. Though he had plenty of friends, he carried with him a little bit of sadness because, despite his confidence and muscles, he was a people pleaser inside. He did grow out of that, but when he meets his love, he can't help but bend himself into pretzels to make her happy. Once he has her to please, no one else's opinions on anything really matter to him.

Chase was also very popular. In tentacle monster terms, he was very handsome. As a kid, he was more rebellious, playing pranks and getting into scuffles, but his parents thought strength was a good quality to encourage. Despite his antics, he was very smart and always made good grades. While many girl tentacle monsters in his class swooned over him, he was more interested in getting into trouble with elaborate projects. He was a shoo-in for the position with his dark lord, having lots of evil doings in his portfolio by the time he graduated high school.

#head canon #monsters #monster boyfriend #yandere headcanon #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere fluff #yandere x reader #drider #tentacle monster #vampire #demon x reader #vampire x human

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novantinuum · 1 month

Text

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences Words: 1.4K~ Summary: Steven surprises Connie with a handmade gift. Written for Glow Week 2024, for the prompt "Casual or Surprise."

@glowweek

This one took a while, but woo! Got a prompt done! It encompasses both prompts for the day in some way.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

“So, uh… I made you a little something,” Steven begins, a nervous little waver rising in the tenor of his voice.

“Oh?” Connie hums, glancing up from her book to match eyes with her friend, recently turned boyfriend. His cheeks are flushed, and he stands at the foot of the stairs as if rearing to rush up to the next level at any moment. What’s all this about?

He taps his fingertips together, his gaze floating off as he proceeds to babble away, bless him.

“Now, as context, I know it’s like, nowhere near your birthday or anything, and you’ve always been more of an ‘acts of service’ and ‘quality time’ kind of person than the sort who goes for gifts, but… well, I’ll just show you! Stay right there!”

He careens up those steps with an altogether giddy smile lighting up his face, his eager footfalls echoing throughout the whole beach house. And while she’s of course piqued with curiosity on what this mysterious little gift could be, what stands out to her most about this moment is the heartwarming realization that this is the biggest smile she’s seen from him in a very long time. It’s no understatement to say these past few months have been the most challenging months of his entire life. No, it’s not an understatement at all. And sure, many may question how she— a mere teenager with miles of her own crap still left to work through— can ever bear it, willfully spending so many hours of her life with someone in such a state of distress. Willfully asking said person to be her boyfriend while he’s trudging through the most treacherous thickets of therapy. Her parents, pragmatic as they are, even went to the extent of warning her when she voiced this intention to them… asking if she was emotionally prepared to shoulder both the natural and uncommon hardships that were sure to come with dating a boy who— just months prior— loathed his own existence so much that he literally corrupted himself into a monster.

The answer, however, is and always shall be an emphatic yes.

Because she loves him.

Because he makes her world feel like magic.

Because the things they’ve experienced together have eternally linked them at the hip.

Because she can’t imagine a worthwhile future without him anymore.

Because the lighter, casual moments like these— just hanging out together in the house, reading a book, watching her boyfriend all flushed and happy and bashful around her— make every single day of potential hardship in between worth it.

And when he dashes down the stairs clutching a huge but slender, messily wrapped parcel in both hands, tied up with curling ribbon at its ends, she discovers yet another reason why she adores him so much.

“A little something?” she says with a playful gasp, setting her book down on the coffee table as she stands to her feet. “Steven, that’s like three feet long! What on Earth did you—”

“Just open it,” he beams, passing the parcel to her.

And open it she does.

Connie is normally very deliberate in the way she pulls gift wrap apart— working from the edges so she can avoid tearing or wrinkling the paper and has scraps to re-wrap other presents in— but the second she’s revealed even the smallest swath of Steven’s handmade gift her heart skips a beat, and she feels compelled to rip the rest away in mere seconds, impatient in her desire to admire the full item.

It’s a scabbard.

More specifically, it’s a leather skinned scabbard, artfully detailed with the same repeating glyph motif that forms the borders on the maps featured within her Spirit Morph Saga books. Said detailing is a little messy, every last line clearly tooled by hand, but exudes so much love and care. There are also golden fittings affixed to the end and throat of this scabbard, as well as two sturdy buckles she could use to fasten it to her baldric.

“It’s not perfect,” her boyfriend comments, carding his fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, “and the fittings didn’t really come out as smooth as I wanted, but I remember you always saying your current scabbard was too heavy, so… I thought I’d make a new one.”

“Wow, I—” she breathes in disbelief, running her hand across the tanned leather with reverence. “This is incredible! How did you even—?”

“Bismuth helped with a lot of it,” he says with a bit of a laugh, moving to sit on the couch again. (She follows suit, gently laying his handiwork on the table before them.) “She let me use some of her tools, and even found the original mold for your sword for me to take measurements from. Those fittings?” he points towards the metal in question, a little dented and uneven in shape, but undeniably sturdy. “Took five attempts to get right. I kept cooling them too fast.”

“Is this real leather?” she marvels, continuing to admire the nearly smooth, flat grain texture.

“Actually, yes,” he nods. “I wouldn’t usually spring for the real stuff, but… well, my uncle had a bunch of old hides he wasn’t using that he inherited from his grandfather. And then, fun fact, the core of this doesn’t even come from Earth at all! It’s sourced from some fallen trees on one of the restored Kyanite Cluster colonies. Supposed to be some of the lightest yet durable wood out there.”

Her eyes outright glisten under the intensity of all the effervescent emotions coursing through her veins. “So you’re saying you made me a scabbard from complete scratch with heirloom leather and space wood?”

“Do you… like it?” he says, rocking back and forth in his seat, no doubt probing every last facet of her expression to try and decipher her truest sentiments on his gift.

She throws out her arms in want of an embrace. “Are you kidding? I fucking love it!”

Pure, undiluted adoration surges straight through her very heart as she outright throws herself at her boyfriend, clutching upon the thick woolen folds of his jacket as she nuzzles her chin at the crook of his neck, her slow exhale radiating warmth against his skin.

She’s no stranger to an unexpected lavish gift— she remembers with fondness that day her parents surprised her with a violin, or the delicately embroidered sari her mother got her for her twelfth birthday.

But this gift… this gift was made especially for her, and the sheer sentimentality of that realization has her falling in love with this boy all over again.

“All this tooling,” she asks a few moments later, once they’ve ended their embrace. “Steven, how long did this even take you?”

A small laugh— perhaps in disbelief at the vast scope of his own handiwork— bubbles through the beginning of his reply. “Many, many weeks. I just followed some TubeTube tutorials for the bulk of it. It was nice, though— a surprisingly stress relieving outlet.”

She nods. “Yeah, I bet.”

At that point, Steven glances aside, giving (in the context of this otherwise joyous little moment) an uncharacteristically heavy exhale. Her lips curve into a frown as she studies him, his expression growing all pensive and line-y like it does whenever he’s reflecting on more personal matters. Hmm. What’s he noodlin’ about this time?

Thankfully, for once she doesn’t have to ask.

“Connie, I— you’ve been such a source of strength for me these past months,” he begins, endlessly wringing his fingers together in his lap, “and… I guess I just wanted to make you something to say that— well, that I see you. And I thank you. And that I’m so, so eternally indebted to you.”

“You’re not indebted to me, silly,” she says in the softest tone she can manage, capturing both his hands within hers, calming their nervous fidgeting. “This gift is really thoughtful and sweet and I adore every inch of it, but please— in the future, please don’t feel like you have to ‘make up’ for anything. I’m choosing to stand by your side through all this, remember? And you know why?”

The barest hint of a smile blooms across his face, the tips of his ears turning beet red.

“Because you love me very, very dearly and I need to stop listening to my jerk ass brain—?” he echoes her own line sheepishly, voice cracking at the edges like it hasn’t since he finally got his growth spurt.

“You said it yourself, mister. Now come ‘ere, you—“

With a soft giggle, she pulls him forward by the lapels of his jacket and plants a chaste kiss against his lips.

She can tell he’s not quite at a stage of recovery where he’s emotionally capable of understanding why, but one thing’s for damn sure:

She’d say yes to this boy for a thousand eternities.

#su #su future #steven universe #connie maheswaran #steven/connie #connverse #su fanfic #glowweek #my writing stuff

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ectoplasmic-entity · 9 months

Note

I’m surprised & happy to find this blog, here’s a Dark Danny x reader(gender neutral) request. Dan and reader somehow become friends, start to fall for each other but Dan tries to deny his feelings. However when the reader is taken hostage by ghost hunters hunting dark danny and threaten to kill them if he doesn’t surrender dark Danny feels something he hasn’t felt in a long time; fear, not for himself, but for the reader. After he somehow saves them he realizes how much the reader means to him

And it's my pleasure to serve (シ_ _)シ

I'll be honest though, this request brought up the challenge of keeping Dan's character balanced between having some elements of his canon traits and having more grounded traits.

Anon, when you read this fic, I'd really like to know what you think of it (✿´꒳`)ﾉ°

Genre: Romance + Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

Rating: Teen

Content Warnings: Two non-graphic off screen deaths

Words: 4.3k+

The first time the two of you met was…unconventional.

You are among the masses that fear him. Huddling with faceless people under ghost-proof domes. Uncertainty is thick in the air and fear permeates the dusty atmosphere. A continuous sway of the unpredictability of fight-or-flight.

Any mention of his name is equivalent to the Bogeyman. It’s spoken in whispers, spat as a curse, or simply no mention at all. The one who bears the name in question is rather unpredictable.

It was during one of his sweeps that you hide within some still intact structures. The glow of the ghost shield warbles and groans. It flickers between blue and grey. On its last legs like that of an ancient beast. Not once has the shield generators have had a hiccup for over 10 years.

But as all things do, they wear and decay with age.

You steady your breathing in spite of your accelerating heart rate. You are near the edge of the city, which has already been levelled. In a brief moment of calm, you exhale softly in relief.

A shockwave of abnormal, spectral energy rumbles through you. The structure you hide within rattles as its very foundations fight to remain upright. You wonder if you may need to run, despite that there isn’t much cover out in the open.

The rumbles reverberate through you. They are strangely low in sound, yet there’s a trace of an echo. Adrenaline surges up your legs, your mind internally yells for you to run.

You turn on the spot. Your body jitters in trepidation as you scan the landscape for danger. You don’t see much from behind the corner of the structure. All you see is a lonely stream of wind blowing dust across the ruins, the haze of smoke blots out what little sunlight there is.

Smoke. The foul smell is thick and rife with the ashen misery of death. It assaults your nose and throat, it forces you to cough it out to clear it.

Amidst your little fit, you nearly miss the flash of black and white. Your coughs quiet down now that you are no longer focused on it irritating your throat. You suck in your breath in spite of the fact that you may choke to death.

High above in the sky. You’d only seen brief glimpses of him. Never close enough or crystal clear to see. Much like everyone else, though, you do know what he looks like-through word of mouth.

It was seeing the real deal that would make those words truer.

For a minute or two, you allow your eyes to linger. The sense of danger slips from your mind the longer you stare at a mythological figure that seemed so far from you. You wonder how much details you would remember afterwards.

A broad, muscular physique is the first thing that catches your eye. Complimented with energy that glows green and crackles. It mesmerizes you how one can have so much power alone.

A bright green flash floods and stings your vision. It’s a few minutes before you regain your senses, the ringing echoes incessantly in your head. The eye straining green fades to a faint haze, you look up to the sky again. He’s still there, unmoving, and an unnatural sensation rolls off in waves.

Overwhelming, but you stand up against it. You aren’t about to let any obstacles, supernatural or not, from obstructing your fascination. So many spoke of him like some mythological figure, in a way, you can see it. On the other hand, he was merely one ghost with a domineering will.

Your eyes linger far longer than one would let them. You take note of the stark contrast of the black and white suit. It’s oddly symbolic in the context that he’s dangerous and humans stand no chance against him despite their efforts. From an angle, you can just barely make out the DP emblem square on his chest. It seems familiar to you. You’re sure you’ve seen it before – a lifetime ago.

Upwards to his face. You inexplicably feel shy upon gazing at what little you could see of his face. Pale green skin and fiery white hair jumps out at you. It’s an unusual colour combination of black and white.

Deep red eyes stare down at you, pinning you on the spot. You can’t look away; the penetrating gaze seems to command every move you make.

A quick, pained gasp comes out of you. Your heart skips a beat. You held your breath for too long. You stumble backwards, he’s staring at you.

Adrenaline rushes through you again, you barely acknowledge the fight-or-flight alarms in your head. Your body twitches, unsure whether you should start running and hope. Or wait and see what he does next.

He moves towards you. His tense posture and fisted hands indicate he’s wary. Perhaps undecided whether he should deal with you or not.

Then he perks up, his head turns in the other direction at whatever distracts him. He only gives a brief glimpse back at you before he flies away. All you see is a billowing cape that obscures him from your sight.

A long and loud exhale blows out of your mouth. Your heart still races, but it’s calmer now. Your breath breaks down into shakes, mystified that you’re still alive and standing.

That…Phantom lets you live. He had the opportunity to blast you away and he didn’t take it. It was a far cry from how he usually acts. What made him stop?

---

Dan knows you’re watching him. Especially after that day. He still questions what went through his mind, that he…let you go.

He tries to convince himself that he was distracted. That you, a mere human, just…

Didn’t run.

Were it any other human, they would’ve been nothing but ash in the wind by now. Except you. You stood straight up and stared right at Dan in defiance. That little fact continues to jump out at him.

It annoys Dan…and intrigues him all the same, to say the least.

It didn’t occur to him right away, but the thought of you never left his mind. Every time he came to Amity Park, his eyes would peer around in search of you. There may not be many humans left, after dealing with them for so long, they all started to look the same to him. Something about you sticks out to Dan.

Perhaps that you seem to be braver, if not foolhardy, but braver than most ever would be.

You are difficult to find, of course. You tend to hide whenever Dan comes around. At first, he considers, maybe you aren’t as brave as he makes you out to be. Except that you never run, even when he finds you. You always stare at him with a mix of apprehension and awe.

Dan grins in amusement, humans are such fickle little creatures. In one minute, they unite together. Then in the next, they suddenly scatter to the winds. And there is always one, singular, poor little human who’s lost.

Time passes, it grows into a sort of routine between the two of you. It goes unspoken, there is an air of understanding. It’s a waiting game, to see how long it takes for you to start running. Or when Dan finally gets bored with you.

Except it never happens. You both meet at the exact same time most days, when the sun sinks below the horizon. In the exact same rusty and jagged ruins that inspire danger. It was so…simple. Yet few, if not none, would ever suspect it.

At first, both of you take the time to study each other. Notice little quirks that one wouldn’t notice unless they actually bother to look closer. Certain physical details that you both find endearing.

Like how you take notice that Dan seems calm. At least, calm when the situation calls for it. Compared to how you usually see him, it was like you’re seeing two different people. It does cross your mind if what you’re seeing is just scratching the surface level of who Dan really was.

You hastily push the thoughts away. You can’t possibly be that invested in him, right? Your reasoning comes off as unconvincing when those thoughts come around…repeatedly.

Likewise, Dan finds you rather cute for a human. With your childish sense of awe that has him grinning to himself in amusement. In a way, it reminds him of himself.

His thoughts stop abruptly, his focus zeroes in on the fact that you remind him a bit too much. A haunting figure encroaches on the edge of Dan’s mind. A part of him that died and, at the same time, never really left.

Dan inhales deeply to control his reaction. He honestly did wonder if you would ever become dangerous to him. It seems quite ridiculous, that you somehow manage to incite such an internal reaction…

He sighs quietly, his fingers press into the bridge of his nose. Great. You aren’t just a bit annoying, and intriguing, but also…invigorating.

Dan slowly lets a grin appear. His hand covers half of his face to hide what he’s feeling. He supposes, as long as you can entertain him, he doesn’t mind keeping you around.

The longer you keep up with these ‘secret’ meetings, the more you realize you look forward to them. To…seeing Dan.

Dan shares the same sentiment of these meetings. That seeing you is an enjoyable quiet amidst a raging storm.

It was one of these meetings that sealed the deal for him. That you’re a friend of sorts…and perhaps something more. It’s a persistent feeling that he quashes down any chance he gets.

Who’d want someone like him? Let alone you?

---

You hide within the ruins for your near daily meetup with Dan. You try to calm the giddy feeling that swirls around in your chest in anticipation once he finds you.

You wait. And wait.

You frown on confusion. Dan should be here by now, on the prowl. It was already dark enough that you’d have a hard time seeing him.

After some time passes, a seed of doubt pokes at you. It’s not like you can tell Dan what to do. He may have simply opted not to come today.

Before your thoughts can bring your mood down more, they’re interrupted by a distant rumble. You barely have time to react when another, more powerful rumble causes you to lose your balance.

You fall with an uncomfortable thud on the ground. You quickly forget your predicament as multiple blasts of green light colour the dreary sky a toxic green. They mix with pink-purple lights, crossing over each other.

Two figures zip around in the sky, one you barely recognize as Dan. The black and white combo turns into a confusing amalgamation. You can hardly make out a red suit and a hoverboard.

The lights fly back and forth with a haphazard sense of direction. Small and powerful explosions of a colourful variety dot the landscape.

You’re so distracted by the spectacle that you fail to notice the warning signs. Bits and pieces of debris fall around you, dust is upset from wherever it settles. A faint groan here, a disturbing creak there.

You realize what’s happening when a large piece of a steel beam lands with a thunderous crash near you. Your head sharply snaps up in horror, your eyes fixate on the sharp, rusty pieces of steel falling towards you. Your breath sucks in, and you seem stuck on the spot.

An echoing, clanging crash jolts you out of your stupor. Your heart thunders in your chest, a rush of energy surges through you. There’s no time to think as you scramble away, just mere seconds before a particularly sharp piece of metal impales the very spot you sat on.

Shaky breaths huff and puff out of you, your heart pounds loudly in your ears. An eerie groan of metal promises certain doom cues you in that you need to get out. The aged structure teeters dangerously over you.

The sound of glass shattering has you pump your legs into action, no time to think on it as you would waste precious seconds of life. The cold-hot sensation of adrenaline fills your throat, your heart picks up the pace. The soles of your shoes slam painfully on the ground as you make a rush for the nearest opening.

Outside, Dan twists and expertly manoeuvres his body to avoid the onslaught. He grins as pink-purple lights pass him, then turns intangible with a casual expression. Oh, how his adversaries get upset when they realize they can no longer touch him. Just like Valerie passing through him, Dan doesn’t as much as even twitch.

She’s quick, and ruthless to a fault.

But not good enough.

Dan careens around with his hand in a fist, becoming nothing more than a dark blur. A painful, resounding crack fills his ears as his fist makes contact with the back of Valerie’s head. She doesn’t even have enough time to utter a single sound before the blow knocks her off of her hoverboard.

He watches with apathy and maybe a smidgen of amusement as Valerie falls down to the roof of a nearby building. Her prone form slides roughly on the surface, unlikely to be conscious again for some time.

Turning away without as much as a glimpse, Dan has a sneering smirk on his face. His eyes shine malignantly. Valerie keeps him on his toes, entertaining, so to speak. He doesn’t have any qualms about killing her, oh not at all, but not for a long time coming.

His musing comes to a halt at the sound of crashing. Crunching. Splintering.

Dan veers around, somewhat caught off guard. He instantly gets a face full of thick dust. Holding an arm to his face to shield himself, the billowing cloud of dust tells him all he needs to know.

Now that he thinks about it…where are you?

His question soon gets an answer when he spots something. Within the dark depths of the collapsing ruins, Dan makes out a shape. A human, familiar, silhouette. You. What perturbs him more is that he can hear a faint thump.

A repetitive, deep sound that attempts to fill his cold body with warmth.

Your heartbeat. Why can he hear your heartbeat?

No matter now. You have very little probability of escaping the collapse unscathed. At best, you may become a cripple for life. At worst, you’re dead under all that debris. Crushed.

Unless…Dan’s thought falters.

Unless…

Dan gets to you first. He growls softly in trepidation. He internally fights himself, it wasn’t the morality of it. More so that he doesn’t necessarily go out of his way to save someone. It’d be a lot more merciful to kill them, if he doesn’t toy with them first, of course.

But if you do die, Dan isn’t sure what to think of it. Loneliness perhaps, he’s used to it. It’s not like he sought out others for company. He…just happened on you by chance. He would miss these meetings, you’re one of the more enjoyable things in this world, Dan has to admit – believe it or not.

Without thinking, Dan zips down low to the ground. Clouds of dust and microscopic particles of debris bite at his face. A deafening roar blasts his eardrums, his vision becomes dark as the cloud grows and thickens.

Shattering. Crashing. Crunching.

Dan cares little for the surrounding chaos. Flying directly into a collapsing building perhaps wasn’t his best idea. His thoughts drone on as he wraps his arms around something, hopefully you. And also, hopefully, though he doubts it, that they remain standing. His form goes transparent.

Time passes. Neither you nor Dan move a muscle. It long since becomes quiet, the ruins are even more ruinous.

A faint thumping sound makes it known to Dan. He can hear it more clearly, and…closer. Dan slowly opens his eyes, red pierces through the darkness and up to the sky. A rare night sky full of stars greets him. Downwards, and…

Oh. That’s why he hears it, you press right up to him. Your arms wrap tightly around him, clinging onto him as if your life depends on it. And your face is hidden in his chest. Your heart beats against his body.

Finally, you slowly and shakily look up. Your eyes shift around anxiously, wondering if you’re really still alive. Well, you’re clearly breathing and can still hear your heart thumping. Oddly enough, you feel like you’re pressed up against something, or someone.

You gaze up further and stiffen in shock. Dan is looking right down at you, like literally looking down at you. You notice at this point that he has his arms around you. Almost like he’s...protecting you.

You grin awkwardly at him; your face heats up. “Face to face at last, huh?”

Dan grumbles quietly and rolls his eyes. He pretends he doesn’t notice the lump that forms in his throat, or that his insides flutter.

---

After that incident, the two of you form a stronger friendship. Dan is standoffish, and displays behaviours that you don’t quite understand. It still intrigues you, you feel like he is hiding his ‘true self’.

Dan remains at a short distance, sometimes, he never leaves your line of sight. You stop hiding from him as well. Maybe you’re afraid that in one blink, either one of you will be gone. It’s an unpleasant feeling.

You don’t vocalize it, of course. Dan doesn’t either, maybe he feels the same as you do.

You’d have no idea just how right you are.

Dan is more cautious now, though he uses the word loosely. The old structure nearly collapsing on top of you is a stark reminder of human fragility. As a matter of fact, mortality as well. It brings up old memories that Dan buries deep within his mind. It’s been so long he forgot they were still there.

‘Invading’ Amity Park becomes less of a reason, and more of an excuse to get away from prying eyes. To see you, make certain that you’re still there the next time he comes around.

The two of you haven’t spoken much to each other yet. At the same time, you feel you already know each other just from your actions and body language alone. Even then, the two of you are still learning about each other.

Days pass. Then weeks.

The two of you settle into a routine. Sometimes you bring a book, or a story from what happens throughout your daily life, other times you sit in a comfortable silence.

Dan thinks you don’t notice, but you clearly do, with a smile to boot, and a shy blush. While he remains standoffish, he can’t help being curious. There are times when he’s looking over your shoulder to see what you have in your hands, even if he doesn’t garner much interest in it. Other times, he can be seen sitting or floating near you as you talk away.

He always seems to edge closer to you when it’s quiet.

You honestly couldn’t ask for more. This is the kind of life you desire if Earth wasn’t such a barren wasteland.

Dan supposes he doesn’t have much more to ask, either. It’s…nice. He feels content.

One day, though, you fail to show up. Dan finds it very uncharacteristic of you – you almost always arrive on time. At first, he thinks maybe you have something that’s holding you up. Even so, you would’ve left him some kind of message.

He decides to wait, he’s certain you’ll show up.

But as night falls, Dan begins to get the impression that something’s wrong. He’s inexplicably hyper vigilant, he feels a sense of danger in his gut. Dan’s ghost core accelerates, and he hears the ectoblood pound in his ears.

Shadows of the night surround him, his senses on high alert. There’s something out there.

Dan decides to leave his post, go on a little hunt. Right off the bat, he can tell that the presence is human, otherwise his ghost sense would’ve gone off. If they’re human, chances are they’re hiding within the wreckage. Too bad, Dan knows all the little tricks humans have tried to pull on him over the years.

He flies down to the ground, he can do this on foot. Walking through the ruins, Dan holds a hand up and it glows a bright green. Spectral energy concentrates in his hand to create a ‘light’ to show the way.

Dan doesn’t get very far before he comes across a pair of humans. At least, he assumes they’re human, with the odd armour they have on. It oddly reminds Dan of ghost hunting technology. Maybe that’s what they are. Ghost hunters who take upon the challenge to try to take him down once and for all.

As if they ever succeed, Dan scoffs at them with a smirk.

One points a gun at him to appear threatening. How frightening. Dan’s smirk morphs into a fanged grin.

The second, however, to Dan’s surprise, moves to pull you from behind him. Your hands are bound and tape covers your mouth. You have the beginnings of bruising all around your body, small cuts dot your face.

The second hunter pulls out a gun, a human one, and presses it against the side of your head. You shake around in terror, your eyes widen and are out of focus.

Dan’s mind goes out of focus, it zeroes in only on you. Your heart…he can hear your heart thundering. A sound that pounds his ears the longer you remain in danger. Dan snarls silently, he bares his fangs for all to see.

“Phantom,” the first hunter draws Dan’s attention. “Your life for theirs…”

The gun cocks quietly. The click reverberates loudly in the tense silence.

“Or your friend here dies.”

Dan leans forward, his hands in tight fists and heavy breaths come out of his mouth. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“Simple as that, surrender to us quietly, or we’ll have a big mess to clean up.”

The sound of your heart rate accelerates even faster. The rhythm pounds itself into Dan’s mind, making sure he’s well aware of it. It beats against his skull. A deep sensation rises up within him, unsettling Dan.

Shivers go down his body, the hairs on the back of his neck stand right up. Dan’s breath quickens. It’s been such a long time. He was sure he’d never feel it again.

The chill of fear seeps into Dan. Not for himself, but rather for you. He can’t keep his thoughts straight, neither can he focus. Not while you’re actively being threatened.

The hunter continues to yap away, seemingly not aware of the signs of Dan’s rising anger. Nor does the hunter notice that Dan seems to relax for a moment, then nothing more.

Your heart pounds more and more painfully against your chest. You squirm in your captor’s grip with no success. You can feel it deep in your bones, there’s something behind you. Something-

Right next to you, you watch in silent horror as the ghost hunter who was too distracted to realize the danger he was in, is pulled into the darkness behind him. You snap your head away, eyes shut tight when the sounds start.

Sickly, blood curling sounds that you’re sure you’ll never forget. Just as quickly as it starts, it becomes a deadly quiet.

The second hunter is stiff with fright, anxiously glancing around while the gun wavers in his grip. Out of nowhere, a hand grabs the hunter’s wrist in an iron grip. The painful pressure forces him to drop the weapon. The hand then jerks him away, forcing him to let you go.

You stand stiffly on the spot. Not daring to move as similar sounds started up again, louder and closer this time. The second hunter manages to yell out before it’s quickly cut off, a sickening quiet takes his place.

Footsteps. Your head snaps up in terror.

You barely relax once you realize it’s Dan. You remain still even as he tears away the bindings from your hands and the tape from your mouth. You shudder and take in a huge breath of fresh air. You don’t dare look behind you, the sounds were more than enough to tell you what happened.

A hand waves in your face.

“You ok…?” Dan asks you awkwardly.

You snap back to reality, you look down at your shaky hands.

“I…didn’t think I’d end up in a scenario like this,” you say in a quivering voice.

You flinch a little as Dan comes closer, and one of his hands slowly rises up to your face. You feel him take your chin and tilt your head up. Your eyes meet in a new light.

“I hate to sound sappy here, but, I didn’t know how much I…enjoyed you. Your company, I mean…” Dan mutters out, his ears turn downwards, and you swear you see the faintest of a blush on his face.

“What are you trying to say?” You prompt him, your hand holds his.

“I think I enjoy you…more than just a friend,” Dan says with his eyes averting.

It stuns you, that Dan feels that way about you. Your stomach flips and your heart skips a beat, Dan’s eyes cast down as if he heard it. Wordlessly, your hands move up to hold Dan’s face, as his hands hold your face.

Slowly, you lean forward. Carefully keeping an eye on him as you gently press your forehead to his. Dan frowns at first, then he quickly relaxes. He exhales softly.

Before you know it, you feel a set of lips press against yours, your nerves burst with emotion. You hear Dan whisper.

“I’d like to enjoy you for as long as I can.”

#danny phantom #fanfiction #dan phantom #character x reader #dan phantom x reader #dan phantom x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #tumblr writers #fanfiction community #fanfiction blog #dark danny #phanfic #dp fic #danny phantom fanfiction #romance #strangers to friends to lovers

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heyitsgigisadventures · 8 months

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The Ultimate Glow Up Checklist | Glow Up Challenge, Printable Workbook

The Ultimate Glow Up Checklist | Glow Up Challenge, Printable Workbook Do you want to become That Girl literally overnight? This is the printable workbook for you! With more than 50 pages for you to print and study, you’ll be able to create a whole new you in just 24 hours! Hey, pretty people! Are you looking for an effective way to level up in your life without completely changing…

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dc-polls · 5 months

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"That Really Happened?!" DC Comics Tournament Entry #16

Mal Duncan gets punched in the dick by an Angel

[ID: Comic cover for Teen Titans depicting an angry man with a letterman sweater striking at Mal Duncan with a chain. Mal blocks the hit with a glowing shofar horn while other members cheer him on. In the background Kid Flash says, "Hold it, Speedy- Win or lose - Life or death - This is Mal's fight!" /END ID]

What Happened?

Mal Duncan, the best teen titan of all time, challenges the literal actual angel of death to a fist fight. The angel punches him in the dick, but Mal still manages to come out on top, and is granted a magical shofar that can summon aid in times of need as his prize for winning.

He then plays that shofar as the horn section of Speedy's band.

To date, a bad gig has never been considered a time of need, but if great frog ever reform, it's probably only a matter of time until it does a bill and ted and summons other, better, musicians to help them out.

Tournament polls will be posted after all entries are up. As always you can find all posts related to the tournament using #dc-polls-trh

#dc-polls-trh #dc comics #teen titans #mal duncan #guardian #azrael

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the-type-a · 8 months

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Duncney Week 2023

(9•10) Day 1: Admitting Feelings

AO3 | FanFic | TikTok | Twt

There It Is

(Read under break)

It had to be hours since the most recent Killer Bass elimination. The plan had gone accordingly; Tyler was now miles away from the island. Yet, a strange feeling crept up on Duncan as he forced his feet to the familiar campsite. His mind replayed the last few hours.

“You guys better vote for Tyler.”

Harold and Sadie shared a look before Harold asked why.

“Because all he had to do was sit on the ground with a few baby chicks and blew it!”

“Yeah, but Courtney’s the reas–”

Duncan grabbed Harold by the shirt, lifting him slightly off the ground. Harold gulped as Sadie covered her eyes at the possible unfolding brawl.

“Okay, we’ll vote Tyler! Gosh!”

Duncan’s red Converse kicked dirt as he shuffled up the tiny hill. Why had he forced those two dweebs into voting off the jock? It’s not like they were wrong. Courtney had been a reason the team lost today, but she was also why many faced their fears. Especially him. His hands bawled into fists as he recalled how her silky hand molded into his callused one. The way she lowered her voice to assure him everything would be okay. The way she encouraged him to no end. Fuck, he hoped the cameras missed the way he softened to her.

His mind argued with him as he approached the uneven stumps of that campfire pit. He couldn’t possibly like her. She was everything he hated: a stuck-up princess, a goody two shoes, yet she had a side to her he had only caught glimpses of. Her freckles popped up from the bridge of her nose when she was flustered. The way her composer would relax whenever she was high off of adrenaline to help the team win—still, the thought of actually having a heart made Duncan want to vomit.

He reached his destination and sat looking into the fire's dying embers. He’d shove those feelings aside. There was no way a chick would change his stance in the game, let alone one so high and mighty. His thoughts were cut by the sudden drop of logs into the pit. The fire sprang freely; his face would have taken a few burns if he hadn't moved in time.

The teen punk looked past the flames and saw her. Courtney. She was dusting her hands off on her pants as she sat back down on a stump. She looked relieved yet angry, which was insane for Duncan to think about, seeing as he was the sole reason she was still on this stupid island.

He studied her for a moment. The flames made her skin glow slightly darker, and her eyes reflected the dancing flames. She ran her fingers through her thick hair with a sigh before making eye contact with him.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” She snarled.

Something snapped in him. Every sane part of him told him he hated this girl. Yet he found himself smirking at her foul words. Something about the way she wasn’t afraid to challenge him stirred a mix of emotions within him. He liked it. She was bold, aggressive, and dare he say a beautiful representation of the female population.

He liked her. Fuck it, he liked her a lot.

—

Courtney was trying to have a few moments to herself when she noticed Duncan sitting across from her. She was over today’s challenge and was confident she’d be sent packing, but she didn’t question her safety as Tyler sailed away on the boat of losers.

Everything about the past couple of days had been a major fuck up. The alleged cuddling with said Neanderthal, her reaction to that stupid dessert, her unbelieved display of affection in helping said Neanderthal face his fear, just to top it off with chickening out of her own. She was a complete failure. A complete joke. If she prayed hard enough, none of the final edits would keep her stupid encounters with Duncan. She could not believe she even let herself get so close to him more than once!

Enough was enough. That sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach would cease whenever he called her some stupid nickname. The way her heart raced when the two made sudden eye contact would simply go away if she kept her focus on the game. She was here to win, not make friends– or whatever he would be subcategorized as.

She’d think Duncan thought she respected him if she knew any better. Heck, liked him even. Now more than ever after that pathetic pep talk. God, how had she gotten so lost in the moment that she hugged him? Her eyes narrowed as she thought about how his fingers squeezed her waist just before everyone approached them. That simply could not continue.

Courtney caught him staring at her through the flames. Some of her was thankful for the fire, and she was sure her face was heating up more. She needed to come off as unappealing as ever to return to the zone. Without thinking, she snarled at him vulgarly, but the sudden attack didn’t meet her with the wanted scoff and possible disappearance of the punk. No, it slapped her face with that cocky smirk that twisted her insides.

Fuck. She liked him, and she hated herself for it.

#the-type-a #duncney #duncney week #duncney week 2023 #td courtney #td duncan #total drama courtney #total drama duncan #day 1 #admitting feelings #my wrtitng

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kenjakusbrainstem · 7 months

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Confident (Geto Suguru x Yuuta Okkotsu)

Contains: Size difference, getting aroused from sparring, first time giving oral, teacher-student relationship, AU.

Day 13 of Kinktober: Size difference. SO last night I saw the Era's Tour movie in theaters with a coworker, which lead to me writing the majority of this at 4am. I didn't intend for it to be so long but I got a bit too into just how much I enjoy writing them together. I was going to have Yuuta fuck Geto instead but I got carried away and wanted to still be able to post today. Hopefully it's good! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Comment or reblog if you enjoy!

Hand to hand combat wasn’t something Yuuta excelled in, but he had come a long way. Fighting with Maki had gotten him pretty far, especially considering her range of weaponry compared to his reliance on a sword. As his training continued and Yuuta grew stronger, it became obvious that while he still regularly lost to Maki hand to hand, that they were unable to learn much more by doing the same spars over and over again.

Which is what had led to even more of Yuuta’s training being with Geto. Geto already was the best teacher for hand to hand combat, so he was the obvious choice for Yuuta. Even if they hadn’t already spent the majority of their time together. With how often Geto accompanied Yuuta on missions and how much time he spent helping Yuuta master his cursed technique, you’d assume he was the teen’s teacher and not Gojo.

The strange couple didn’t mind spending even more time together, and Geto’s genuine care for Yuuta’s growth as a sorcerer and a man certainly helped. The secret nature of their budding relationship was something that neither of them minded, Yuuta was too shy to even consider saying anything to his classmates.

It was a quiet evening as they sparred, the cool air comforting on their flushed skin as Yuuta’s sword clashed against Playful Cloud. Normally they met in the mornings, but Yuuta had to go on a short mission earlier and missed his time with Geto. Going on the earlier mission had made Yuuta miss the one he’d intended to go on with his classmates, so instead of wasting time alone, he’d asked Geto if the man would want to try and make up for their morning lesson.

Wrapping Playful cloud around the end of Yuuta’s sword, Geto used the teen’s momentum to throw him onto the ground, ripping the weapon from his hands. Yuuta had gotten better, not needing to manifest Rika in order to keep up with Geto. That didn’t mean he had learned everything though, Geto’s skill at hand to hand combat was unmatched by anyone at the school.

“You’re doing so well Yuuta, even then you rely on your sword far too much. What would you do if someone was able to disarm you?” Geto asked, squatting next to Yuuta who laid where he landed on his back. It invigorated Geto to be able to train Yuuta like this, as much as he longed to embrace and comfort the teen, being able to challenge him was exciting.

Yuuta stared up at Geto, almost in awe of the man’s beauty. This happened every now and then when they trained like this. Geto would get this glow about him, as if he were truly enjoying himself. His long dark hair pulled back more than normal in a messy ponytail, strands escaping under the constant movement and framing his face.

Geto had stripped off his outer layer, choosing to wear a tight fitting white t-shirt. Though the heat wasn’t as bad with evening falling and the sun dipping behind the treeline, it was still hotter than he’d like it to be. It was harder for Yuuta to focus on fighting entirely, he was embarrassed to admit. The way Geto’s muscles looked even beneath his shirt almost too much for Yuuta. If he hadn’t been fighting Yuuta would be watching from somewhere more secret so that he could commit the sight to memory.

“I’d use my technique and get my sword back,” Yuuta knew this was the wrong answer as he said it. He loved getting praised by Geto, but at times like this he was more interested in pushing the man’s buttons to get a rise out of him.

Tossing both of their weapons to the side, Geto stood, looming above the teen. “If you were unable to use your technique, what would you do?”

Yuuta crawled to his knees, standing slowly in front of Geto. He was being more dramatic than usual, it seemed missing their session this morning and going on a mission alone had made him a little clingier than usual. Stepping into Geto’s personal space, Yuuta looked up, a look of oddly placed determination on his face.

It was sometimes hard for Geto to take Yuuta seriously during these moments, as eye level for the teen was at his collarbone. Geto knew size didn’t matter in terms of strength, Yuuta was a very powerful sorcerer. It was just hard to take him seriously when his frame was so much smaller than Geto’s.

Along with their height difference, Yuuta lacked the muscle definition Geto had. He was growing stronger, at some point he may catch up to Geto, but Yuuta’s more lithe frame added to their size difference. Geto doubted that Yuuta had much more growth left in him, maybe another inch of height if he were lucky, but he found every aspect about Yuuta endearing.

Without warning, Yuuta threw a hard punch at Geto’s jaw. Unfortunately for the teen, Geto was faster, catching Yuuta’s fist before it came into contact. Using the force behind Yuuta’s punch, Geto spun the teen around and twisted his arm behind his back.

A sharp gasp left Yuuta as he was manhandled, the near pain shooting up his arm. This didn’t discourage him. The feeling of Geto’s strong body against his back willed the teen to move on autopilot. They’d been this close many times in and out of sparring, but Yuuta had an idea. He was nowhere near as acrobatic as Maki, but that didn’t mean he didn’t learn anything from her.

He knew Geto wouldn’t actually hurt him, or at least he was betting that the man wouldn’t. Yuuta jumped, using his own body weight and the leverage his bent arm afforded him to turn himself nearly upside down, hooking his knees on Geto’s shoulders. Yuuta could have used the position to break Geto’s neck, but instead of squeezing his thighs together, he let himself hang in an attempt to flip him over.

It all happened so fast, Geto barely registered Yuuta jumping before he let go of his arm. Not wanting to chance breaking a bone or dislocating anything. Bringing his hands up to support the shifting body, Geto’s hands gripped Yuuta’s hips tightly. Geto’s grip didn’t deter Yuuta, even if he couldn’t flip the man he still felt like he’d done something unexpected. Digging his fingers into Geto’s hair, Yuuta pulled himself into a sitting position, looking down on the man for once.

Whether it be the angle or just something about tonight, the gleam Geto saw in Yuuta’s eyes was one he wasn’t sure he'd’ seen before. The bright determination and condescending look of triumph was etched onto Yuuta’s face, as if he’d won their whole sparring match just by getting out of one hold and hanging off of Geto.

“You think climbing me will help you train? Are you going to just wrap your legs around any enemy or am I special?” Geto teased, using his hold on Yuuta’s hips to pull the teen away from his shoulders.Yuuta didn’t fight back, allowing his legs to unwrap from Geto’s shoulders.

As Geto moved to place Yuuta on the ground, the teen surged forward and knocked them both over. Geto was strong enough to take Yuuta’s attack, but the awkwardness of the way he was holding Yuuta threw his balance off.

Once they were both on the ground, Yuuta quickly moved to pin Geto’s arms above his head, causing him to straddle the man’s stomach. Geto once again noticed the look on Yuuta’s face, while there was a hint of playfulness to it, he also noted the determined look shining through his eyes.

“I may not be able to subdue you yet, but with more practice it’ll be easier to get you on the ground like this,” Yuuta said, his voice more confident than Geto had ever heard. It wasn’t that Yuuta wasn’t ever confident, but it was very rare that Yuuta was this forward outside of battle.

Geto laughed, Yuuta’s words brought a smile to his face. The fact that he was so determined to get better for something as simple as ‘getting him on the ground’ instead of any actual fighting as a sorcerer amused him greatly.

The other thing Geto found amusing was something he didn’t think Yuuta had even noticed yet. Geto could feel Yuuta’s half hard cock pressing up against his stomach. Yuuta’s height didn’t allow for him to properly straddle Geto’s hips, forcing the teen to sit on his stomach in order to pin his arms. It seemed that Yuuta enjoyed their fighting more than he had let on.

“If you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask, I’ll gladly let you take charge,” Geto’s words had turned suggestive, the mood changing inside of him the moment he felt Yuuta’s cock pressing up against him. Geto had always gotten turned on or at least mildly aroused from fighting with an attractive opponent, so it satisfied him greatly to feel Yuuta reacting the same way.

Though he wasn’t sure how much training they would get done if they continued to acknowledge their shared arousal. Geto supposed it was a good thing they discovered this on a day where Yuuta’s classmates were on a mission and no one else was around to observe. Shifting his hips, Geto pressed himself up into Yuuta, pulling a small sound from him.

Yuuta had been too focused on getting Geto on the ground that he hadn’t been paying too much attention to himself. As soon as Geto pressed up against him he felt the pleasure of his cock rubbing up against Geto’s stomach. A flush covered his cheeks, he had never had this reaction to sparring before, even in his other fights with Geto. Yuuta was more shocked than embarrassed, feeling like he had blindsided Geto.

Geto could feel Yuuta freezing up on top of him, he knew the teen could get embarrassed easily.

“Hey it’s okay, the rush of fighting especially when you’re attracted to your partner can do that, it happens to me too. Don’t worry we’re alone now and I’m sure we have nothing to stop us for a while if you want another kind of hand to hand,” Geto whispered, lowering his voice to reassure Yuuta that everything was okay. It didn’t matter too much to Geto if they finished their lesson or if they let this go further, he just wanted Yuuta to be comfortable.

It was like Geto always knew just the right words to make Yuuta feel at ease. His classmates and Gojo were away, all training was generally done way earlier in the day, and if he knew anything about Geto, he had a few curses watching the more treaded paths so they’d know if anyone approached.

Yuuta leaned down and pressed a kiss to Geto’s lips, the kiss betrayed how he was really feeling. Though he had been embarrassed for a moment, the rush he’d gotten from pinning Geto hadn’t gone away. Yuuta kissed Geto with a passion and intensity he was rarely able to set himself. Tongue tracing along Geto’s lips to gain entrance with every press of lips.

Geto could feel Yuuta growing more confident with each kiss, he didn’t hesitate to open his mouth to the teen, allowing their kiss to grow more heated. Yuuta’s confidence increased when he felt Geto arch up into him again. The passion flowing through Yuuta’s body at the moment was unlike anything he’d felt before.

It didn’t take too long for Yuuta to start grinding into Geto’s abdomen, everything feeling too good to not indulge in that pleasure. Geto was transfixed by Yuuta’s movements on top of him. The teen had been eager before too, even excited, but he’d never seen him so forceful. Geto wanted nothing more in that moment than to grind his hips into Yuuta’s, so they both could feel that rush of pleasure.

Geto attempted to free his hands, wanting to touch and move Yuuta, but he had other ideas. Yuuta’s grip was unrelenting, pressing Geto’s hands down more forcefully. Control wasn’t something he was willing to give up tonight, Yuuta wanted to show how strong he was to Geto. He wanted to be the one to give Geto pleasure, instead of Geto always making sure Yuuta was satisfied and ignoring his own needs.

All it took was the confidence Yuuta hadn’t expected to gain so suddenly.

The kiss deepened with Yuuta’s refusal to let Geto’s hands free, his tongue in Geto’s mouth less inquisitive and more trying to show Geto just how much he wanted him. Yuuta had never felt this strongly before about what he wanted to do to Geto. Pulling away from Geto suddenly left them both breathing heavily from the intensity of the kiss. Looking down into Geto’s lust filled eyes, Yuuta knew what he wanted more than he was sure of anything else at that moment.

“I’ll take care of you tonight, there’s something I’ve been wanting to try and having you on your back is the perfect chance,” Yuuta said, his voice a half whisper as he tried to keep it down and quell his excitement at the same time. They had been intimate before, but Yuuta’s confidence was often overshadowed by just how dizzy Geto made him feel when they touched. So to have a moment of clarity where he was able to try and make Geto feel the same pleasure, Yuuta knew he needed to take it.

Yuuta didn’t give Geto a chance to respond, quickly letting go of Geto’s hands and maneuvering himself to slip between Geto’s thighs. He wasted no time cupping the hard cock that was hiding behind the soft, baggy pants Geto usually wore when they trained.

Geto was too stunned to speak, his arms still up by his head where Yuuta had pressed them into the ground. The feeling of Yuuta’s hand on his cock wasn’t a foreign one, but Yuuta’s movements were so intentional and less clumsy. It turned him on more to know that Yuuta knew just what he wanted and was willing to take it without Geto needing to lead him.

“Seeing you take control like this Yuuta, it’s almost too much. You can do whatever you want to me, I’m all yours,” Geto whispered, trying to encourage him without being too pushy. Having Yuuta take control was something he didn’t fully know he wanted, but it felt so good Geto couldn’t help but surrender.

Yuuta had always thought since Geto was much larger than him, that he was always going to be the one in control. Even if Geto had never done anything to make him feel that way, the teen just had an idea in his head that it was how things were supposed to be. The sight of having such a big, strong man on his back like this however, made Yuuta’s blood sing with desire.

Slipping his thumbs into Geto’s waistband, Yuuta pulled down the man’s pants just enough to free his aching cock. Yuuta was always surprised about how heavy Geto’s thick cock felt in his hand. That Geto was this aroused just because of his actions made Yuuta’s head spin. He wouldn’t be distracted though, not with Geto here spread out for him.

The first touch of Yuuta’s tongue to the head of Geto’s cock made Geto groan. Geto had sucked Yuuta’s cock several times, the teen loved it, but he hadn’t wanted to rush Yuuta. It seemed the wait was worth it, as Yuuta’s tongue mirrored what Geto often did when teasing Yuuta. Tracing around the head before pulling the tip fully into his mouth and sucking.

Yuuta was a fast learner, and he paid more attention to the way Geto touched him than he realized. He sucked at the head of Geto’s cock, allowing his hand to pump the thick shaft.

Slowly Yuuta took more of Geto’s cock into his mouth, bobbing his head gently to get used to the new motion. He wanted to see just how much he could take before it became too much. Watching Geto’s nose buried in his pelvis made him wonder just how far he could go.

Each pass of Yuuta’s lips over his cock was agonizingly slow for Geto. It took more effort than he’d like to admit to not thrust into Yuuta’s hot mouth. It had been so long since he’d had his cock sucked, even before his budding relationship with Yuuta began, Geto had been too focused on other things to worry about that. He’d forgotten just how good it felt to feel the warmth of his lover’s mouth.

“I don’t want to get too carried away, but fuck Yuuta you just feel so good, you’re going such a good job,” Geto whispered, trying again to encourage Yuuta. He didn’t want to rush the teen, but he knew they didn’t have time to try more things right now. Which was a shame, because the way Yuuta was acting made Geto want nothing more than to have Yuuta buried deep inside him

The praise did have its intended effect, with each bob of his head Yuuta grew more confident in his motions. Looking up through his lashes at Geto, he saw his flushed face looking down at him. The desperation on Geto’s face was something he wasn’t expecting, Yuuta had never felt so powerful while they were intimate. He wanted to make Geto feel even more pleasure.

Focusing back on the hard cock pressing against his tongue, Yuuta felt like he was ready. The head of Geto’s cock was nudging up against the back of his throat with every one of his movements, but he wanted more. Suddenly Yuuta forced himself further down on Geto’s cock.

Yuuta’s slow sucking had turned into him fucking his own face with Geto’s thick cock. It burned Yuuta’s throat to feel the head of Geto’s cock pressing so far down into his throat. Each rough thrust pushed Geto further into his mouth until Yuuta felt the dark curls at the base tickle his nose.

Geto’s hand found its way into Yuuta’s hair, not to guide but to have something to grab on to. It seemed like sorcery wasn’t the only thing Yuuta was a prodigy at. Geto could feel his arousal mounting quickly, somehow Yuuta made him feel so much more sensitive.

The cock in Yuuta’s throat throbbed as he buried his nose in the patch of curls at the base of Geto’s cock. Yuuta paused for a moment once he had Geto’s cock completely in his mouth, swallowing around the thick shaft made Geto’s body shiver.

It seemed he’d gotten ahead of himself, the thick cock too much to swallow around. Yuuta gagged, pulling himself off of Geto’s cock quickly to cough for a moment. Geto was sure it was something the teen would apologize for later, but it was cute to him that Yuuta was trying so hard just to please him.

Not deterred by his mistake, Yuuta turned his attention back to the thick cock in front of him. He had never seen Geto this hard before, he could see it twitch from arousal almost. Leaning forward Yuuta ran his tongue along the underside of it, tracing a path up to the head again before he pulled it back into his mouth.

Geto stared down in awe, Yuuta was quite the sight between his legs. The bright flush of his cheeks wasn’t a surprise to Geto, but the rosy tint to Yuuta’s lips as he watched them slide up and down his cock had him on the edge. Yuuta had never looked quite so pretty to Geto than with his lips wrapped around his cock.

Yuuta was so focused on taking in as much of Geto’s cock as he could that he didn’t see Geto staring at him. If he had he may have been able to realize just how close Geto was.

As Yuuta made his way back down Geto’s cock, his nose tickled by dark curls again, Geto came. The sudden spurting in Yuuta’s mouth startled him, but he quickly recovered from shock and returned to sucking, trying to swallow everything Geto gave him. He didn’t mind the taste, but he hadn’t expected it to be so thick and warm.

Release had hit Geto harder than he expected, his hand tightening in Yuuta’s hair as he bit down on his lip to keep any sounds in. It felt so much better than he could have ever dreamt, somehow Yuuta was always so good at making him feel good.

Yuuta continued sucking, until the hand in his hair tugged enough to urge him off. Yuuta panted as he tried to catch his breath, looking up at Geto for approval. Geto quickly tucked his cock back into his pants before sitting up and kissing Yuuta, tasting himself on the teen’s lips.

“Yuuta you did so well. You should take control more often, if we weren’t out in the open like this I’d be begging for your cock,” Geto said against Yuuta’s lips, drunk off of his orgasm but meaning every word he said.

There would be more time for them, no need to rush. Yet Geto decided to rush packing up their things in favor of getting Yuuta back to his room so he could push Yuuta’s limits without fear of being noticed. He didn’t want to leave his lover unattended.

#geto suguru #yuuta okkotsu #geto suguru x yuuta okkotsu #okkosugu #suguokko #jjk smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #getou suguru #yuta okkotsu #geto suguru x yuta okkotsu

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thecatduet422 · 2 years

Text

PART ONE

bakugou x reader

Rating: Teen

Tags: romance, fluff, aged-up characters, time skips, flashbacks, no beta

Summary: Extra. Princess. Nerd. Names Katsuki called you when he was trying to piss you off.

And then the one he had for you when he wasn’t.

AO3 Link (where it was originally posted)

PART TWO

At first, he thought you were just some extra.

He remembers the first day of class, when Four Eyes lectured him about his desk.

“Take your feet off of that desk now!” Four Eyes looked down on him. “It’s the first day of school and already you’re disrespecting this academy by scuffing school property, you cretin!”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Katsuki smirked. “You’re old school put a stick up your ass? Or were you just born with it?"

“He’s right,” you suddenly whipped around from your seat, eyeing Katsuki with disdain. “You’re being disrespectful.”

“Huh?” Katsuki yelled. “Who the hell asked you?!”

You scanned him up and down, unimpressed.

“No one did,” you replied, holding your head high. “But you’re being improper, and he has a point.”

“Huh?!” he asked again. The way you were looking at him was pissing him off. “You think you’re better than me?!”

You looked at him again, at his feet on the desk. You looked disgusted.

“Yes,” you replied, flipping your hair before returning to your book.

“Oi!” Katsuki abruptly stood up from his seat, towering over you in a challenge. “Who the hell do you think you are, you extra?! I’ll take you on right now!”

“Excuse me?!” you screeched. You stood up from your seat, matching him dead on. “What did you just call me?!”

And then Katsuki saw your eyes. Tiny, translucent jewels embedded into the irises, sparkling and twinkling in the light. Katsuki supposed it was meant to be pretty, but you, with your ugly scowl and piss-poor attitude, somehow made it annoying.

“You heard me,” Katsuki growled, smirking domineeringly at you. He could feel the heat of his palms start to sizzle with rage.

He was going to crush you.

“Extra,” he said tauntingly.

Aizawa-sensei had to separate them. Their desks were moved onto opposite sides of the room, but that still couldn’t stop the bickering that would occasionally rise from the both of you. You were like cats and dogs, completely at odds with one another. The only thing you two had in common was your temper.

You were uptight, snobby, and rude, choosing to stick your nose in a book rather than talk to anybody. And when you did speak, it was to correct someone or butt in with some useless reference from some fancy-ass novel you’ve read. On top of that, you quoted the Hero Constitution constantly, bugging Katsuki and anyone else nearby about what it means to actually be a hero.

You were a royal pain in his ass.

So in retaliation, Katsuki continued to call you an extra, knowing how much you hated it. The nose you kept in the air would scrunch up like you smelled something foul. Your lips would pout and pucker as if you tasted something sour, and then your brows would furrow as those jewel eyes of yours glowed. That's when he knew you were about to explode on him, squawking at him in that painfully shrill voice of yours saying no, you were not an extra!

Your pissed off face was the only interesting thing about you. Which was why Katsuki continued to call you that, even though the rest of his classmates' nicknames were more specific.

And then the Sports Festival happened, and Katsuki found himself about to go up against you.

He was going to beat your snooty ass into the dirt. Once and for all.

But something was different that day. You’ve been quiet, detached. Every time Katsuki saw you, you were tucked away in some corner, your book blocking your face as you read it. He thought nothing of it at the time. He was too busy dealing with Icy-Hot after his insulting declaration against Deku.

And then he saw you fight.

Icy-Hot was throwing everything at you. He tried icing you head on, but you always maneuvered it with ease, jumping and flipping away in just the right time, toeing the edge but always staying within bounds. It was lame at first. Katsuki expected the bastard to knock you out within seconds, and so did everyone else. But you dodged every attack easily, using your super strength to leap into the air at extreme heights. Icy-Hot tried to freeze you then, but you kicked- smashing the ice straight through.

Huh, maybe your quirk wasn't so lame after all. He immediately dismissed it on the first day. Super strength wasn't anything special. A lot of people had variations of it, giving their quirk. And yours wasn't flashy or powerful, nothing like All Might's or any other Hero who used it.

But you were good at combat, and you were able to blend it with your quirk easily. Which was why when you jumped over another ice attack, and landed right in front of Icy-Hot, he used his fire in surprise.

But somehow, it didn't matter. You landed a kick right to his stomach, pushing Icy-Hot out of bounds.

The hell?

"How did she do that?" their classmates said in awe.

"She should've burned."

But you were fine, staring down at Icy-Hot with that annoying little smirk on your face.

"Thanks, Todoroki-kun," you said with a mysterious shine in your eyes, before offering your hand to help him up.

Thanks? What did you mean by that?

Katsuki grunted. It didn't matter. That just meant he got to be the one to beat you himself.

He smiled ferociously.

Finally.

And then it got to the final round, and once the fight began, Katsuki wasted no time.

You were good at using your quirk in combat, but so was he.

Every move you made, he countered, using his explosions to avoid your attacks. And whenever he tried to attack you straight on, you did the same, leaping out of the way to avoid his quirk.

But he expected that, so when you leaped into the air, he used that time to build up the heat in his palms, and when the moment was right…

BOOM.

He launched an explosion at you while you were airborne, similar to what Icy-Hot did with his ice. But there was no way you could counter something like that. It was the biggest explosion he’s ever done, and he did it on purpose. He wanted to see you broken, your snooty face cry from the pain, kicking you off your high and mighty pedestal, permanently.

The arena was covered in smoke.

Katsuki listened, waiting for the announcement that you were out of bounds, or even better, too injured to fight.

But as the smoke waved through the air, slowly thinning out, he heard nothing.

The audience started murmuring to one another, becoming restless with the fact that they couldn’t see you either.

Their reaction made Katsuki nervous, and he frantically started to look around, anticipating a surprise attack.

But then through the smoke, he saw something. A movement that morphed into a shadow, and as it reached the edge of the fumes, the clouds becoming nothing, it gleamed. It reflected against the light, twinkling and sparkling so bright, Katsuki had to squint.

You walked out in a completely different form, one that was solid, translucent, except for the areas that were shining back, exposing hues of rainbow.

Some kind of jewel form.

“Is that all you got, hothead?” you said mockingly, flipping your hair even though it didn’t move, as it was also crystallized.

The audience cheered at the sight of you, oohing and awing at your appearance.

Damn it. Damn it damn it damnitdamnitDAMNITDAMNIT-

“IS THAT ALL I GOT?!” Katsuki screamed, launching himself at you. “NOT EVEN CLOSE.”

You moved to grab him, but he dodged away, aiming an explosion right to your face.

But you held strong. You never cracked.

And the fight continued, the both of you completely destroying the arena. You both raged, yelling and taunting as you punched, exploded, and plowed through everything you could.

You both had only one goal in mind; take this smug asshole rude piece of shit down.

And through it all, you were never able to catch Katsuki.

And he was never able to break you.

“ENOUGH!” Cementoss screamed as giant slabs of concrete finally stopped you.

“It’s a tie!” Midnight cheered.

Katsuki froze. He couldn’t believe it.

“A TIE?!” you both screamed.

They had to chain you both to the podium to keep you from killing each other.

He remembers the night after that, lying in bed, wondering how the world turned upside down. First, Deku gets a quirk. Then, Icy-Hot doesn’t see him as a threat. And then, Katsuki ends up in a tie against you. How did this happen?

He tossed and turned, unable to sleep as whispering thoughts of doubt prodded his mind. He was afraid to even think about it. He refused to even comprehend the fact that maybe he… Maybe he was…

No.

There had to be a winner.

So the next day, Katsuki tracked you down and demanded a rematch.

“Fight me!” he commanded.

“Shhhhhhh!” went the people around him.

Figuring out where you were was easy. It was a free day, and you, being the annoying bookworm that you were, had nothing better to do than spend it at the library.

“Be quiet!” you hushed.

“I want a rematch!” said Katsuki, not bothering to lower his voice whatsoever.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?!” you stage whispered, gesturing to the book you were reading.

“Hah!” he pointed a finger accusingly. “You’re just afraid I'll kick your ass!”

“Shhh!” people repeated, harshly.

You sighed, heavy with frustration. “If I fight you, will you leave me alone?”

He hmphed, smirking victoriously. “Like I’d ever acknowledge you again after this.”

You seethed with rage, your face twisting into that famous sour expression as you slammed your book.

You ended up taking him to an abandoned gym, old and rusty from neglect.

“The hell?! How can anyone train here?” he cried.

“I train here,” you replied, folding your arms as you stuck up your nose.

You assured him it was safe, and that no one would interrupt them.

So they fought, just like they did before.

And he did everything he could to beat you. But you, in that stupid, ridiculous, jewel form wouldn’t budge. You were like Shitty Hair, but better, and your fighting skills were incredible. It pissed him off. His only solace was that you couldn’t pin him down either.

You would charge at him, but he would dodge, using his explosions at the last second. He would try to attack from behind, but you would anticipate it and counter with a roundhouse kick that just barely got him. And it went on and on, and soon enough, Katsuki realized they were falling into a pattern.

Charge.

Dodge.

Attack.

Counter.

Over and over and over again. And it seemed that no matter what Katsuki did, he couldn’t get out of it. Whatever move he tried, you picked it up. It was like a black hole, inescapable. No matter how much they tried to break the pattern, they would just fall back in.

They kept fighting until they couldn't. Until you were both lying on the ground, covered in sweat, nothing moving but the rise and fall of your chests. Hearing nothing but the desperate panting you both made as you struggled for air.

He was actually tired because of you.

"C-Can we…" you panted. "Can we call it a day?"

You were pleading with him.

And Katsuki wondered, if he said no, if he wanted to keep going, would you follow him?

There, lying on the ground, he looked up. He looked up at the cracks in the ceiling, the mold gathering in the corners, the shitty lights that were rapidly flickering, barely alive. All while being consumed with the thought that you were no extra.

And he couldn’t call you that anymore.

"Yeah," he nodded as his breath caught up to him.

They continued to meet up after that.

It would always be at that shitty gym. Why, he didn’t know, but you would insist on it, nagging at him in that stupid voice that it had to be there.

“It’s tradition,” you would say.

And Katsuki would give in, as long as you would just shut up and fight already.

And you did, following the pattern, trying desperately not to.

“Come on, hothead. You can do better than that,” you taunted, baring another explosion.

Hothead. Your nickname for him. You started using it more and more, while he was trying to find a new one for you.

What was he supposed to do, call you by your actual name?

As if.

You were still aggravating. You, with your pompous-ass attitude, clutching your book to your chest. You, in that stupid crystal form, acting like royalty.

So he started to call you princess, always in mockery. He would draw it out, dip it in sarcasm, make it sound insulting. You would get annoyed, but not nearly as much as extra did. And during the moments when you really pissed him off, Katsuki found himself wishing he could find another name, one that could recreate the face you made. The ugly one, with the scrunched up nose and the puckered mouth. Katsuki wondered why he liked it so much, and then he realized it’s because you often looked pretty, with those jewel eyes of yours. Everyone commented on them and told you how pretty they looked.

It annoyed the hell out of him. So when you made a face, one that revealed how ugly and imperfect you actually were, Katsuki reveled in it. Even more so when he was the cause of it.

So, he would try out different names when you fought, thinking if he pissed you off enough, you would make the face and falter.

“Shut up, princess!” he shot back.

“Make me!” You aimed a right hook. He avoided it.

“Try something new for once, nerd!” he growled.

You managed to trap him in a headlock.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Kacchan,” you scolded him, mouth twisting in a frown as he struggled to get out. “It’s not gonna work.”

Kacchan. The name you used when you were trying to piss him off, courtesy of Deku.

It worked.

He roared in frustration, setting off an explosion right next to your ear. As you reeled back, covering your ear in pain, he tried to take you out with a kick, but you managed to dodge it in time.

Charge. Dodge. Attack. Counter.

Again and again.

But something was different that time. That time, you managed to get a hold of him. And that time, he was able to throw you off.

You were both improving, little by little.

And then one time, after the Kamino Incident, you randomly show up at his door.

“Huh?” he said, noting your disheveled appearance. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“You didn’t show up,” you panted, out of breath. Your brows furrowed, your nose scrunched up, your lips puckered. The face.

You were pissed.

“I waited… FOR THREE HOURS!” you screamed. Katsuki could practically see the steam coming out of your ears, whistling and high pitched, like a hot teapot.

“Of course I didn’t, dumbass!” he shouted back. “We’re not supposed to leave our houses! I was just-” he choked, unable to say the word as failure and guilt crushed his windpipe.

“So?” You put your hands on your hips, raising a brow at him as if being kidnapped wasn’t an excuse.

“So?!” he repeated. “It’s not safe! The League can be anywhere!”

“The world is never safe, hothead. And groups like the League will always exist,” you told him, folding your arms. “That’s why we exist.”

And then you dropped your expression, relaxing your features as you replaced your anger with something else. Something Katsuki didn’t recognize. But it was soft, and your eyes sparkled with it, and he couldn’t help but think, in that moment, everyone was right. You were pretty.

“You really gonna let that stop you?” you asked quietly, tilting your chin up in a silent challenge.

Of course he wasn’t. But the old hag would never let him.

And when he told you that, you smirked. “What? Chicken?”

Later that night, as the old hag screamed at him for sneaking out, he thought, you really weren’t that uptight.

And suddenly, even calling you princess felt wrong.

But, he realized, it didn’t matter. As his mind flashed to you, standing outside his door, making the face he wanted, he learned he didn’t have to call you names. He could piss you off in other ways.

Once he figured that out, it became so easy.

All he had to do was show up late.

And suddenly, their fights cranked up to an eleven. If it were possible, you were even more ferocious, more unforgiving. If Katsuki somehow slipped up, you made sure he felt it.

He never felt more alive.

Finally, he met someone who could match him.

But that also meant you were his competition, his rival. And every time it ended in draw, the both of you lying on the floor, utterly exhausted, he felt disappointed. Unsatisfied. He wanted to go again.

And as time went on, the two of you growing into your quirks, becoming more powerful, you were able to.

And so you would, again and again, falling into the same pattern that felt like a dance. And while he wanted to win, wanted to beat you, he also found that he didn't mind. Fighting you was fun.

And as the world continued to be unsafe, as wars were fought, and people died, he found that fighting you was one of the few things he could rely on.

And he thought you felt the same, because as time went on, and they continued their dance, he only learned more about you.

You acted righteous because of your father, a lawyer who was an activist for quirkless rights. He always raised you to be good, to be right. He taught you to value morality and action above everything. An honorable man with good intentions, but sometimes he could be overbearing and critical, making you feel as if you couldn't be wrong without feeling like a bad person.

So you played it docile, choosing to smother your emotions by reading rather than express them. Until Katsuki came along and set you off, because how is it fair he could act out with no consequence while others couldn't?

Especially when he was throwing words around like worthless and extra. Harmful, demeaning words that weren't right.

And Katsuki saw it, that special gleam in your eye whenever they fought. Because after all those years of holding your emotions, you were finally able to get them out.

But as he came to know you, to recognize the small things that told him when you were angry, or sad, or happy, you learned about him too.

Which was why now, when they've graduated from UA and were working in the same agency, you asked him what was wrong.

And when Katsuki ignored you, continuing the dance, you asked again.

And when he didn't answer, you guessed.

"Is it Kirishima?" you asked as you ran at him.

He huffed, flipping up into the air.

"Icy-Hot?" you used your lasso to grab him and pull him down.

He growled as he collided with the ground, choosing to blast you with everything he had. A wild, terrifying bomb of destruction that would've destroyed anyone else. But because it was you, it did nothing.

You laughed as it went off, smiling gleefully. The shrill squawking he once hated grew into bells, chimes that fluttered his stomach whenever you laughed. When once he strived to see you angry and pissed, he now wanted to see you smile, to see you shine and glow with happiness that was all because of him.

"It's Midoriya!" you cheered.

"What?!" he yelled. "No it isn't."

"Oh please, Kacchan," you teased, pausing the fight to flick his nose. "Only he could rile you up this way."

"No!" he swiped at you. "You piss me off all the time!"

"Maybe once," you shrugged. "But hardly anymore. At least, not really."

You smirked, and before he knew it, you had him pinned down, covering your crystallized hands over his palms so he couldn't blast out.

"Tell me I'm wrong," you spoke softly.

It was the first time you were able to pin him. The first time either of you were able to do it.

And as Katsuki looked up into your jewel eyes, sparkling with a secret only of him, he found that he didn't mind.

He huffed. "You're never wrong."

And as he leaned up to kiss you, passionately and heatedly, dragging you down with him, he thought of your name. Not extra or princess or even your real one. The one he came up with when you looked just like this. The one you chose to be your Hero name, after he whispered it to you.

Jewels.

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